


Out of Order, Into Place

by belwrites



Series: Into Place 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Accidents, F/M, M/M, dean and cas are big dumbs, minor character death with significant repercussions, probably inaccurate depictions of how custody of children works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 71,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belwrites/pseuds/belwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Dean Winchester met those friends-that-are-family, moved away from his hometown, became a dad, and fell in love. In that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: nope not mine, except for Astrid

**Fact: If Dean Winchester really thinks about it, he still doesn't know how his life turned out like it did. However, he does come up with a list of facts.**  
***  
 **Fact: Dean never meant to end up in Brooklyn.**  
  
He was doing his cousin -- who he hated with a burning passion but Mary had pleaded with him and promised him "all the apple pie he wanted" if he helped him move -- a favor and taking his video game collection up to his dorm at Tisch. How Adam ended up there was anyone's guess but Dean didn't really care to ask questions because college far away meant less time with him at holidays which meant more pie for Dean. Did he feel shitty about thinking that way? Of course. But even Sam, who at sixteen saw the good in the world and preferred that to all its shittiness, didn't like Adam, so maybe that was a sign. He'd finally finished moving the last box into Adam's tiny dorm when he noticed a petite redhead with huge sunglasses standing a few feet away from him, hand on a hip, head cocked to the side, watching him.  
  
"Can I help you, sweetheart?" he asked, winking at him. She frowned at him behind the sunglasses.  
  
"No, just trying to figure out what a grease-monkey like you's doing at a performing arts school like this. The production of High School Musical's already been casted, you missed your shot, Efron." She lowered the sunglasses to get a better look at him. Dean's never been struck speechless before, much less by a girl, so he kind of just made a fish face for a second while he tried to think of a comeback.  
  
"Anna, leave him alone." They both started at the gravelly voice that came from behind Dean. A man, also wearing sunglasses, was walking up to her, carrying a canvas bag, which he passed off to her. He was pale, like her, but not nearly as porcelain. He had dark hair that stood up at odd angles and when he turned to face Dean, he pulled his sunglasses off, revealing startlingly blue eyes. "You'll have to excuse my sister. Human contact is a foreign concept to her." Behind him, she stuck her tongue out. "Your name is?"  
  
"Dean," Dean said, just a slight lag in his response, thrusting a hand out. "I'm Dean."  
  
"Castiel," the man replied, shaking his hand. Dean could've sworn he heard amusement, but his face was perfectly neutral. Anna made an "ugh," noise, the same one that usually accompanied one of Sam's eye-rolls. "You've met Anna."  
  
"Call him Cas, or you'll never get his attention," Anna said, pressing the bag into her brother's chest and going to shake Dean's hand. "Human contact is a foreign concept to him, too."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean ended up spending the weekend in New York because of shitty weather on the route he had to take, and Mary would skin him if she knew he drove through it. Castiel and Anna showed him around the city that weekend, and they hit it off.**  
  
Anna was just starting school, but she wanted to be a director. Castiel seemed to think she'd be good at it, and described her as "the bossiest person I have ever met, and I have six older brothers," to which Anna shoved him playfully. They were the two youngest of their family, she just two years younger than him. He was at Columbia, not really sure what he was going to do with his life yet. He liked writing, but he also liked debating, so maybe a lawyer? He was also good with numbers, too. Anna suggested, "tax accountant," at which he shoved her.  
Dean told them about how he wasn't suited for college and how he wasn't really sure what to do with himself yet. Sam was halfway through high school and from the arguments he'd been having with John, it didn't look like he'd be sticking around after graduation. Sam was, if he was being perfectly honest, the only reason he hadn't left and gone out into the world yet.  
  
"So what do you do, then?" Castiel asked, blue eyes fixed on him intently.  
  
"I help out with my dad's baseball team, when it's in season. I fix cars, sometimes, at the garage, but that's only when they're really clueless. My dad's friend runs it, he said they can't keep me on the payroll because he'd feel bad about underpaying me."  
  
"You know a lot about cars?"  
  
"Practically rebuilt mine after the wreck my dad got it in a few years back. He was gonna junk it." Even Anna looked impressed. Dean got the feeling she was the kind of person you had to tap-dance upside-down while balancing one of his mother's pies on your head to impress.  
  
In the end, Castiel and Anna exchanged phone numbers with Dean and they went their separate ways: Dean back to Kansas, the Miltons to their respective colleges.  
  
But they kept in touch. Cas, especially. Anna texted him here and there about something that Castiel asked her to pass along because he couldn't for whatever reason, but Cas especially. They ended up exchanging emails, for God's sake. Sam teased him relentlessly about his "boyfriend," which pissed John off, which made them both pretty happy.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: While Sam screamed his rebellion to the world -- but mostly their father -- Dean quietly planned his own uprising.**  
  
Starting in Sam's high school years especially, John and Sam constantly butted heads. Mary was very good at keeping the peace, but occasionally, maybe once or twice a month, it would boil over and there'd be a huge shouting match in the living room that ended with Sam slamming his bedroom door and John storming into the garage to tinker with whatever was in there. It had become routine for Mary and Dean to actively avoid the garage the following days -- which sometimes turned into a week if it was really bad -- that happened, and instead Mary baked, and did book club, and planned for whatever big family event was coming up. Dean worked on coaxing Sam out of his room, even if it was only to hole himself up with Dean in his.  
  
Winchesters don't do apologies. Everything that was said was never apologized for, never readdressed, unless in another fight.  
  
Dean, as most oldest children are prone to do, had learned early on that it was all for the best to just go along with what John said, even when he didn't agree. However, he was determined, when Sammy was old enough, to not let that happen to him. Instead, he fed him his own versions of the truth that John preached, the version that was, as they later realized, truer and more universally accepted. No, they didn't have to believe in the God they prayed to every night at dinner, but you could, if you wanted. You could believe in another God, or another being or spirit or whatever, if you wanted. No, it didn't matter if you liked one sports team over another, even if they sucked (although Dean spent a lot of time giving Sam crap over that one, because seriously, Sammy?). And no, boys don't have to just like girls.  
  
The last one was big, to Dean. When he was about fourteen, back when he was still invited to parties, he'd been playing spin the bottle and ended up with a guy. Hank was a very laid-back kid, the resident pothead, if that was even possible for Lawrence, so yeah, they kissed. And you know what? Dean actually kinda liked it, screw you very much.  
  
It took a lot of alcohol and late nights and parties that no one remembers (or would care to, because word would get out and everyone's parents would find out and then they'd all be fucked) before Dean could actually confirm it to himself that yes, he liked guys as well as girls.  
  
Of course, a week later John went on a tirade about how the fags would destroy the world with AIDS and we can only pray that the Lord would save them and blah, blah, blah, bigoted shit and all that.  
  
Sam, eleven years old and skinny as a stick, just sort of frowned at the carpet while his father ranted to the reporter on the screen. Mary was upstairs, and didn't hear him, but Sam knew that his mother wouldn't like to hear him talking like that. Later, after John said goodnight to them, Sam crept into Dean's room. Dean was up, playing with a lighter, a glass dish, some wax, and a piece of paper.  
  
"Fire hazard."  
  
"Don't give a shit." Sam sat himself down on the edge of Dean's bed.  
  
"Does Dad really think all that stuff about gay people?"  
  
"Probably, why?"  
  
"’Cause aren't they just people?" Dean looked up at him. "I mean, yeah, they like boys or girls or whatever, but they're still people. They have about as much to do with ending the world as I do, right?"  
  
It was the first time that Dean realized that maybe, just maybe, he had more influence over his little brother than their own father.  
  
 **Fact: Sam Winchester was the first person to know that Dean liked guys, too.**  
  
***  
  
In his junior year of high school, Sam started looking at colleges, like Dean had. Unlike Dean, his list consisted of schools far, far away from home. On both the West and East Coasts, actually. The list alone had made up three arguments alone: first, why the hell aren't you staying close to home like Dean had; second, why the hell would you want to go to California;  
and third, why the hell are you even considering New York.  
  
Dean was still talking to Cas and Anna at this point, and telling them all about Sam's grand plans to get out of Kansas, and when he let it slip that Sam wanted to look at schools in New York, both of them had sent him invitations to stay with them while Sam college-toured, within seconds of each other.  
  
Who was Dean to refuse?  
  
On the Thursday before Presidents' Weekend, Sam cut school and they drove up to New York in the Impala with their mother's blessing and the promise to deal with John.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Anna absolutely adores the Winchesters.**  
  
No, really.  
  
Anna and Cas had a cousin, real worldly guy from the sound of it, who traveled a lot and inherited a shit-ton of money from the side of the family not related to them and had houses all over the damn place. He happened to have a brownstone in Brooklyn. Cas said he was an antiques dealer, the kind of guy you watched on Sunday morning local cable that told little old ladies their unwanted jewelry was actually worth thousands. Balthazar never used the brownstone and offered it to Cas when he started at Columbia.  
  
Anna greeted them when they arrived late Thursday night. She was already in what Dean assumed were her pajamas: a pair of sweatpants from Columbia and a Tisch sweatshirt. It did not, however, stop her from going outside to help them with her bags.  
  
"Cas is on a date, but he should be back tomorrow," Anna said as they went into the kitchen. She started on a pot of coffee, and looked in the fridge. "Are you guys hungry?"  
  
"We're fine, he's on a date?" Dean said, backtracking.  
  
"Uh-huh. It's his third with this guy, I think he might've actually found someone who can keep up with him intellectually." She said it like he'd found someone who could cure cancer.  
  
After coffee, and talking about the plans for the weekend (Columbia, NYU, New York College Manhattan, and then sightseeing), Anna showed them to the guest room, which was set up a bit like that of a motel's: two single beds, a TV, and minimal furniture. Sam worked on unpacking while Dean sent a text to their mother, letting her know that yes they arrived safe and yes they ate on the road.  
  
"So your boyfriend's got a boyfriend," Sam said. Dean could hear the smirk, he didn't even have to look up.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Did you know?"  
  
"That he was dating someone or that he's gay?"  
  
"Uh, both." Dean looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember.  
  
"We were talking about dating and it came up, about a month after we met. Didn't know he was seeing someone. He knows I swing both ways. He occasionally does, too."  
  
"But he prefers dudes."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Jessica Moore was the selling point at Columbia.**  
  
Jess was in their tour group. She was pretty and blonde and had a nice smile and it took all of seven minutes (yes, Dean counted) for Sam to start making heart eyes over her.  
Sam, the shyest person in his high school (Dean was almost positive of this), couldn't start a conversation with a girl if his life depended on it, so Dean dragged him over, and introduced them.  
  
"Hey, I'm Dean, this is my brother, Sam, I think you two are the same age, and he thinks you're pretty, have a conversation." And he shoved them closer together and went on his merry way, listening to the tour guide and maybe, just maybe, spying on them out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Let it never be said that Dean isn't a good match-maker.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Sam and Dean spent the summer between Sam's junior and senior years of high school in New York.**  
  
It took a lot of pleading, and coaxing, and bargaining, and a few puppy-dog eyes on Sam's part, but Mary eventually said yes. She and Castiel had long conversations on the phone (Anna said he was the grown-up of the two of them, and the fact that he was at Columbia definitely added points), planning and reassuring her that yes, her boys would be perfectly safe in Brooklyn with them, and no, the chances of them getting mugged were very slim, even with Dean's flashy car.  
  
Sam's last day of school was exactly thirty-six days after his birthday. Thirty-seven days after his birthday, they were road-tripping up to New York together. They called when they were close, and they pulled up to find both Anna and Cas sitting out on the steps, waiting for them.  
  
***  
  
Cas and Anna gave them a proper tour of New York City the day after they arrived. The last had been rushed, due to the cold weather and the little time they had, but this time they trotted them past all the major sights, both in daylight and again a few days later, at night, and took them to museums that Dean and Anna hadn't been much interested in (at the MoMA, both of them couldn't understand how crumpled-up paper was considered art) but Cas and Sam fanboyed over.  
  
Sam, if he hadn't already been sold on Columbia, was totally sold on the city itself. Dean wasn't really into big cities but he absolutely loved Brooklyn. New York itself wasn't bad, but he liked Brooklyn.  
  
Castiel's supposed boyfriend never made an appearance, and Cas never mentioned him. Anna said that it wasn't a bad sign, necessarily, but not exactly a good one, either. She, on the other hand, was constantly texting a boy only identified as "Chuck" on her phone. She blushed scarlet and a somewhat dreamy grin on her face whenever he was mentioned.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Anna and Castiel visited them on Thanksgiving during Sam's senior year.**  
  
Mary had been anxious to meet Dean's new found best friend and his sister who Dean was talking to enough to be his own sister. Their parents were going away for Thanksgiving, and their brothers were all doing their own things, so they ended up flying down, courtesy of their mostly nonexistent father (Cas said that he felt guilty for missing out on most of their childhood).  
  
Cas and Anna were eager to get away. Cas had decided to go for his master's in English before making any real decisions -- he was currently flirting with the idea of teaching, but, as Anna put it, "he can't teach kids because he'll lose his mind answering all those questions and high school students would irritate him because he was born forty-five, okay, he was smarter than everyone in his high school."  
  
 **Fact: something was wrong with Anna when they arrived.**  
  
Anna had been feeling sick ever since before they left. She was normally a very good flyer, which confused her. She ended up throwing up in the plane bathroom right after takeoff and again in the bathroom at the airport when they landed. She'd had a rough semester so far: she'd started dating Chuck, the guy she'd been talking to all summer, and then right after Halloween he vanished, no note, no explanation. His former roommate said he transferred to a school on the west coast. Dean, upon hearing this, began plotting with Cas.  
  
 _you got a picture of him? i'll run him through face recognition programs and find him  
  
And then what, Dean?  
  
and then we'll kill him obviously  
  
I don't think that's a good idea.  
  
oh come on i'm brilliant we won't even leave a body behind. i bet sam will help us  
  
Yes, and then Anna will kill US._  
  
Mary took to Cas and Anna like they were her own. She mothered the hell out of Anna when she found out she wasn't feeling great and absolutely loved Castiel because he helped her with Thanksgiving Dinner.  
  
John, on the other hand, was a bit more difficult.  
  
"Just don't mention politics, or the military, or sexuality, of any kind, or religion, or gun control laws, and you should be okay," Dean whispered when they were going up the stairs, dragging Anna's bag behind him. "If he brings it up first, go with the most conservative but true answer you can come up with."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"If he asks you about your religion -- which will come up at dinner, he makes us say grace -- just tell him you're Christian and that should shut him down."  
  
"But we don't really practice. I don't think Anna's been to church since she moved out."  
  
"Well, don't tell him that!"  
  
***  
  
Anna slept in more than Dean had ever known her to when she stayed with them. On Tuesday, she came downstairs, smelled the bacon that Sam was cooking, and rushed to the bathroom. Mary frowned, and followed her. They could hear her talking to her quietly through the door.  
  
"Boys, we're gonna go out for a bit. Samuel, I want this kitchen sparkling when you're done, you hear me? Last time you and your brother left grease all over the place."  
  
"I know, I know, I'll clean up!" The door through the kitchen slammed shut.  
  
"Wonder what's wrong with Anna," Dean said, stuffing a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. Cas shrugged.  
  
"She's been ill for a while. I assumed it was a bug she picked up on the subway."  
  
"But not you?" Sam asked, mouth full.  
  
"I don't take the subway."  
  
***  
  
Mary and Anna were gone all day. John had to run to the station right after breakfast, so the boys were left to their own devices. Sam, as promised, cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast. They eventually decided to drive around Lawrence, just to show Castiel, who had grown up fifteen minutes from Boston in a cute little suburb, what "sleepy little town" really meant.  
  
Cas was absolutely fascinated with the main drag, with the little mom-and-pop shops and restaurants. Sam grumbled incoherently when they passed the high school, where only two or three cars were parked in the parking lot. They stopped by Dean's sometimes-place-of-employment at the garage, where business was next-to-nothing and they were getting ready for their three days off.  
  
When they returned, Mary's car was parked out front, in where Dean usually parked. The house was quiet when they went inside, until Dean accidentally let the kitchen door slam.  
  
"Shh!"  
  
Mary appeared out of nowhere -- something of a gift she had that both her boys hated -- carrying a mug and a sleeve of crackers.  
"Anna's asleep right now."  
  
"Is she okay?" Cas asked. Mary looked over at him, her face softening.  
  
"Anna asked me to have you wake her up before dinner tonight. She wants to talk to you," Mary set the mug in the sink and the crackers on the counter. "Sam and or Dean, help me set the table."  
  
Castiel disappeared upstairs about twenty minutes before dinner. He didn't return until Dean hollered up the stairs for him, at which Mary scolded him, but he just sauntered into his chair, shrugging.  
  
"Anna won't be joining us tonight," Cas said when he finally came downstairs. "She's still sleeping." Mary nodded, no questions asked. John said grace, asked the boys about their day, and dinner progressed as usual. Cas steadily refused eye contact with Sam and Dean and Mary only halfheartedly fought him on his offer to help with the dishes afterward, and actually shooed her sons away from the kitchen.  
  
***  
  
"I need to talk to both of you," Cas said quietly after the dishes had been washed. They were in the living room, watching the news with John. Mary was upstairs with a plate of food for Anna. "Not here." They got up, and headed for the kitchen, before Cas shook his head and went upstairs, right into Dean's room.  
  
"Wonder what's got him all weird," Sam muttered to Dean as they followed him.  
  
"Maybe Anna got a call from their parents or something."  
  
 **Fact: Anna and Castiel do not talk to their parents.**  
  
Dean shut the door behind him and leaned against it, arms loosely crossed.  
  
"What's up, Cas?"  
  
"Anna's pregnant."  
  
Cas said that Anna said Chuck was the father, no doubt about it. Mary had taken her to her doctor in town this morning. Mary took  
her out to lunch afterwards, keeping her entertained, but she was sick in the restaurant so they came home, where she fell asleep until dinner.  
  
Dean was silently fuming. Anna was like that kid sister he never had (although Sam had enough chick-flick moments for him to almost count as one) and that douchebag had just up and left, and she was pregnant because of him. He wondered if he would've stayed, if he'd known.  
  
He didn't think so.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Anna decided to keep the baby.**  
  
Dean got a lot of texts from both of them after Thanksgiving. Anna complained about her brother's stubbornness and questioning why she was so determined to keep the thing anyway. Cas wrote essays about how she couldn't have a baby, she was too young, she was in school, it'd ruin her future. Sam and Dean went up again for Presidents' weekend in February again. Anna greeted them in a wool knit sweater that Dean suspected was her brother's. It concealed her belly, which Cas told him was starting to show.  
  
"I have ultrasounds!" she sing-songed. She pushed them across the kitchen table excitedly. "They said it's a girl."  
  
"Congratulations, Anna," Sam said, a huge smile on his face. "Any names yet?" She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Cas keeps suggesting real Biblical or weird literary names. Gabe texts me a list of names he's deemed acceptable for his niece once a week.  
Every other name is a variation on his girlfriend's name. Do you know how many different spellings for 'Kelly' there are?"  
  
"Cas has been helping with names?" Dean asked. Last he'd heard, Cas was still against the baby.  
  
"I think he's starting to come around. Gabe and Kali are coming down for the summer. She's a nanny or something, she's gonna give us a hand. And, I mean, Cas is done with his bachelor's in May, and it's looking like he can get his master's with fewer classes so he'll be home more and maybe we can switch off or something."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Sam got into Stanford and Columbia, his two top choices.**  
  
There was no difference between the two of them, in Sam's mind, except for the fact that a New York winter was an urban legend at Stanford, and Columbia meant being close to Castiel and Anna.  
  
It was a no-brainer, really.  
  
 **Fact: Dean was going with Sam to New York.**  
  
At first, they just planned on going up right before term. Dean would find a cheap place in Brooklyn for himself, and get a job, and Sam would live on-campus but hang out with him on weekends. Anna would have just had her baby and they didn't want to be another thing in her and Cas' way.  
  
Anna pitched a fit over the phone when she found out.  
  
" _Absolutely_ not, have you two lost your _goddamn minds?_ " she shrieked at Dean, who held the phone a good foot away from his ear. "You're like family to us and there is no way in hell you're gonna live in some box three blocks away from us! You know we have more than enough room. As soon as Sam graduates, you two will get your asses up here and we will have a freaking good time before I have this baby and have to be an adult!" Cas took the phone at this point.  
  
"She's been having mood swings," he said conspiratorially. "Sorry."  
  
In the end, Dean was not one to argue with a pregnant woman, and they planned to go to New York as soon as possible.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Anna went into labor the night Sam graduated.**  
  
Cas called Dean during the ceremony, and left a voicemail telling him he was on his way to the hospital and there was a very good chance they’d have to let themselves into the brownstone when they arrived. Sam and Dean, who had been planning on driving up that weekend, moved their plans to the next day.  
  
 **Fact: Astrid Marie Milton was born the day before they arrived.**  
  
They got the call on the road. Cas sounded exhausted. Anna was so happy.  
  
 **Fact: Dean, Sam, and Cas have been wrapped around her finger from day one.**  
  
 **Fact: Dean, after thinking about all of this, still has no idea how the hell his life turned out like it did.**


	2. One

**Fact: Astrid likes to go to work with Dean, Cas, and Anna.**

By the time she's three, Astrid has an opinion about everything. She does  _not_ like Cas' steamed vegetables (or any vegetables, for that matter), or Dean's eggs unless they have cheese on them. She thinks that every room in the brownstone should be purple and Dean should keep his jacket on at all times, because she likes to bury her face in it. She also thinks that she should always go to work with the grownups.

Dean has a job at a garage called Singer Auto Repairs. Bobby Singer is this old guy who reminds Dean of Santa's younger, rebellious brother: a questionable attitude, a mouth like a sailor, but a heart bigger than Manhattan. Dean brings the average age down about twenty years, but he's just as good as the rest of the mechanics,  _and_  he brings in more business because of pretty, clueless girls and his charming smile. Dean knows for a fact that Bobby doesn't mind Astrid coming in with him. In fact, Bobby kind of loves Astrid, thinks she's hilarious. Astrid's fascinated by his beard and giggles when Bobby has to tell Dean to stop flirting with the clients and fix the car, idjit.

Cas eventually got his shit together in grad school, and ended up getting a degree in art history and getting a job at the Met, researching paintings (apparently, his being good with numbers stretches over to being good at remembering dates, too) and writing the descriptions on the walls and the pamphlets for group tours. He toys with the idea of writing a book every so often, but doesn't really ever do anything with his ideas. Astrid likes going with him on days when he's working in the galleries, directing where new paintings should go.

Anna directs shows for a little indie theatre troupe in the East Village. They do all different things: comedic, Wilde-esque shows; dark, tragic shows with deeper meanings and statements about society that Astrid isn't allowed to see; even a couple Shakespeare plays. Anna's not quite living her dream just yet; all she needs is one big break and to direct a show  _on Broadway_  and she could die happy. When Astrid goes to rehearsals, Anna sometimes lets the actors use her as a stand-in for a prop.

**Fact: Astrid does not call Cas or Dean "Uncle." She calls Sam "Uncle Sammy" and Anna "Mommy."**

They don't really know how it came about. Anna always called them "Uncle Cas" and "Uncle Dean" before Astrid could talk. For a while, Astrid called them that, too. But then she hits four years old, and something changes. At first, they think they just miss the first part of the sentence and let it slide. But then Dean picks her up from preschool one day and she positively shrieks, "DEAN!" while running across the playground to hug him.

They try to figure out where she got it from. They spend long conversations over a bottle of Jack Daniels, trying to figure it out. Sam's still called "Uncle Sammy" so they don't know why only they changed. They settle for Anna's theory, that she referred to them by their first names so often that Astrid just  _forgot_  that they were supposed to be uncles. Sam had moved out two years ago, and got a little box of an apartment with Jessica, the girl from the tour all those years ago, a few blocks away from them.

**Fact: Jessica absolutely adores Astrid, and Astrid loves "Auntie Jess."**

***

**Fact: Astrid is about to turn six when everything absolutely falls apart.**

Sam collapses on the couch at the brownstone the day after his next-to-last year of law school. His hair's falling into disarray, growing like a weed, despite Jess's many attempts to remind him to cut it. Heavy textbooks are in a pile right next to his feet, on the floor. He's got an arm thrown over his eyes, like he's about to faint or fall asleep. Cas is in the kitchen, working on dinner, when Dean walks in with Astrid up in one arm, resting on his hip, telling him all about her day at kindergarten.

"So that's why you gotta come to graduation, because they take pictures with everyone and you're part of everyone and Mommy said you have to dress nice because she doesn't want pictures of you in your garage jeans," she says, patting his hair. He tosses his head around, trying to shake off her hand. She turns her attention to Cas, waving excitedly. "Hi, Cas!"

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, kissing her cheek as they pass him. "How was school?"

"Awesome. Dean, look, it's Uncle Sammy!" She points excitedly at Sam. Sam grunts from the couch, his other arm half-waving at them. Dean smirks, and goes over to the couch, grins at Astrid, and then drops her on him. He makes a loud, "oof!" sound and his arms go up to stop Astrid from flopping forward onto his head. He glares at Dean, who just grins at him.

"You suck as a human being," he says, sitting up and plopping Astrid in his lap.

"You love me."

"Uncle Sammy, Mommy says you're not s'posed to say that. You gotta put a dollar in the jar," Sam raises an eyebrow, and looks from her to Dean. Dean points at a jar on the bookshelf next to the TV.

"It's the Mean Words Jar, dude. You owe it a dollar," Sam makes a face like he can't believe the words coming out of his brother's mouth, but Dean just flashes him a winning smile and picks up the jar and shakes it at him. "Cough it up."

Sam huffs, sets Astrid on the ground, and digs for his wallet in his pockets. He shoves a dollar in the jar, glaring at Dean. Dean just puts the jar back and goes into the kitchen and sits up on the counter.

"Get down," Cas says halfheartedly.

"What's for dinner?"

"Ratatouille."

"Rat-a-what?"

"Vegetable soup."

"You coulda just said so, Cas," Cas fixes him with a look, the kind that tells Dean that he's exhausted with him, and turns back to chopping carrots.

"Where's Anna?"

"She's working late," Dean sighs. Cas looks up at him. "She's got a big project, Dean, you know that."

"She hasn't been home for dinner in weeks."

"It's just until June, and then the show'll be open and everything'll be normal again," Cas says, a well-practiced line.

**Fact: Anna worked too hard on that show, even though enough favorable reviews could mean a real Broadway show.**

***

Sam stays for dinner, and stays late, but he doesn't sleep over. Jess is visiting family for the weekend and Sam is talking about asking her to marry him, in a  _very_  hypothetical sense, as he so stresses to Cas and Dean once Astrid is bathed and in bed. Dean thinks the two of them are so domestic it's disgusting: they have a  _dog_  together, for Christ's sake. But, at the same time, it's about damn time Sammy proposed to her.

Sam leaves around ten, and that's when Cas and Dean start wondering where Anna is. They call the theatre, and the person at the desk says they're running late and they'll be done soon, and yes they'll pass along the message to Anna to call them ASAP.

Anna sends them a text telling them that she's leaving now, don't wait up, she already ate, and she's really sorry. Dean knows she feels bad about not being around Astrid lately, but it doesn't stop him from resenting her a little bit.

They go to bed (separately) around eleven, taking Anna's advice about not waiting up for them.

**Fact: Anna Milton does not come home that night.**

***

The house phone rings around half past midnight, and Cas is the only one who wakes up to answer it. When he gets off the phone, he goes into Dean's room and wakes him up.

"Anna's in the hospital. We have to go  _now_."

Cas gets Astrid semi-dressed and carries her down the stairs while Dean tries to call Sam to let him know. Of course, he sleeps like the dead so he has to leave a message.

Traffic in New York at one in the morning's not bad but there are an awful lot of party-goers and drunk people out, and Dean can't drive fast enough. They park in a lot six blocks down from the hospital and Cas goes ahead of Dean, who tries to get Astrid to wake up long enough to get out of the car. He ends up slinging her up in his arms and carries her, half-running after Cas.

Inside, Cas is fighting with the nurse.

"I'm family! I'm her brother, I live with her, and I have her daughter with me, why can't you let me see her?" The nurse looks at him and then at Dean, who's got the very unconscious daughter in question in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Milton, but at this point, no one can see her. Take a seat and I'll let you know when she can have visitors," Dean somehow manages to support Astrid with one arm and then drags Castiel away with his free hand.

"Cas, chill," he mutters.

"Dean, you don't understand, that's my sister!"

"Yeah, I do, Cas, in case you haven't noticed, I've been living with you guys for almost  _six years_ now, she feels like my sister, too. But right now, you can't see her, so for your sake, and hers, and mine, and Astrid's,  _calm the_   _fuck down._ "

***

**Fact: Astrid sleeps through the end of the world.**

A doctor finally appears after about an hour of waiting. Dean gave up calling Sam about twenty minutes ago. Astrid is slumped into Dean's shoulder, asleep. Cas is leaning against Dean's other shoulder, in more of a stupor than slumber, when Dr. Chase appears.

"You're the family of Anna Milton?" Dean nods, and Cas sits up straighter. Dr. Chase looks at Astrid and the corner of his mouth goes down just a hair. Cas catches this, but Dean isn't quite awake and misses it. "Follow me."

He leads them down a hallway and not into Anna's room, but instead to an office. He motions for them to sit down in the chairs in front of the desk.

"We did all we could for Anna," he starts, and Dean already knows how this conversation ends. Cas listens, hangs on the guy's every word, doesn't even blink when he lists the injuries. Dean, on the other hand, can't even look at him. Instead, he looks at the floor, his shoes, the desk, the lights on Astrid's sneakers. He only looks up when Cas asks what happened.

"She was in a cab," Dr. Chase finally says. "Another cab ran a red light and T-boned hers. She -- she's gone. I'm sorry."

**Fact: Dean wishes they could've done more.**

***

Dean and Cas go home in silence. Cas holds Astrid instead of putting her in the booster seat, which they both know is dangerous but Cas can't let her out of his sight. Dean calls the garage when they get home and leaves a message saying that he won't be coming in today. He calls Sam again, but doesn't leave a message when it goes to voicemail. Cas puts Astrid back in her bed.

Arrangements need to be made. They have to call the rest of Cas' family, tell them the news. But it's also three in the morning and they can't do that yet.

Dean digs a bottle of whiskey out of the pantry, way in the back and hidden. He gets two dinner glasses out of the cabinet and goes back into the living room and sets them down on the coffee table and waits for Cas, who comes back downstairs, barefoot and expressionless, fifteen minutes later. They sit on the couch in silence for what feels like hours, and then--

"I was going to talk to her when she got home," Dean looks over at him. "We hadn't made plans for Astrid's birthday. I know that we normally go out, but her show was opening, and maybe Astrid wanted to do that instead, but I had to see what Anna thought, but I had to do it soon or it wouldn't be ready in time." He takes a shaky, shuddering breath. "What -- how do I --"

"Hey, Cas, shh," Dean says, wrapping an arm around him and grabbing his other shoulder. "Deep breaths, man."

"How are you so calm right now?" Cas says, barely whispering. Dean pours whiskey about one-fourth of the way up the glass and hands it to him.

He genuinely doesn't know. Dean has an answer for  _everything_ , has never left a question hanging on Cas. He doesn't have an answer for Cas and that's the first time in the history of their knowing each other that that's ever happened.

**Fact: upon looking back on that night, Dean realizes that he hadn't processed it yet.**

They fell asleep on the couch, slumped over each other. They miss the alarm that goes off in Anna's room, the alarm that goes off on Dean's phone, and the three calls on Cas' before the land line rings and Dean wakes up. His voice is rough (he didn't end up crying last night, did he? Of course not, Winchesters don't  _cry_ ) when he answers it.

"Hello?"

"Dude, what the hell? I woke up and there are like twenty missed calls from you and Cas and a message that sounded a lot like Anna was in the hospital. Is she okay? Do you need me to pick up Astrid or something?" Dean closed his eyes, rubs them with his free hand. "Dean?"

"I'm here," he says, looking out the bay window. "She's not going to school today, you don't need to get her."

"Are you gonna take her to Anna? How bad is she? Did you get to see her last night?"

**Fact: Dean did see her that night.**

Dean forces the images of Anna ( _bruised, bloody, broken, gone_ ) out of his mind and takes a deep, quiet breath. He has to tell him. If he doesn't, Sam will kill him. He can't get the words out, though: they're stuck in his throat, choking him.

"Dean? Should I come over?"

"Yeah, Sammy," he breathes, so, so,  _so_  grateful for his little brother's intuition in that moment. This isn't something he can say on the phone. Maybe not even at all.

"Okay, I'm coming over. Should I pick up breakfast or something?"

"You gonna pass Dunkin Donuts?"

"I'll get coffee."

"Thanks." The line clicks, and Dean hangs up the land line. Cas woke up at some point, and is watching him. "Sam's coming over."

"Does he know?" Cas sounds even more gravelly than usual. Dean chooses to blame it on the mostly-empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table.

"It's not something you tell someone on the phone."

"So how do you propose I break it to our brothers? Invite them over for dinner and when Anna's not there, and they all notice, tell them over appetizers?"

"No, Cas, that's not what I meant, it's just--" Dean breaks off, looking for the right words. "Sammy was close to her. Is close to her. He can't find out over a phone call three blocks from us." Cas just stares at him with his ice blue eyes, the same eyes as Astrid. "I'm gonna go get 'Strid. Sammy's bringing coffee." Dean goes for the stairs, running a hand through his hair.

Astrid's asleep, curled up under the blankets. She's got her mother's pale skin and her face, but dark, messy hair like Cas. When she smiles, she looks like Anna. She tilts her head to the side like both of them do when she's confused.

"Astrid, wake up, baby girl," Dean says quietly, running a hand through her hair. "C'mon, Uncle Sammy's coming over with doughnuts." He tries to sound upbeat. God help him, he tries. Astrid stirs, and blue eyes flutter open to look at him.

"Where's Mommy?"

"Uncle Sammy's coming over and he's bringing breakfast, come on, up," Dean pulls the blankets away from her. She glances at the digital clock with Disney Princesses all over it. She doesn't quite know how to tell time yet, but she knows the numbers are much higher than they should be.

"Am I going to school?"

"No, we're staying home today," Dean tells her as he catches her hand and pulls her out of her room. She stops at the stairs, lets go of his hand, and goes to brush her teeth, without a word. Dean leans in the doorway and watches her. They go down the stairs together. Sam's standing in the doorway, a Box of Joe under one arm and a dozen-donuts-box in the other. He grins at Astrid as she comes down the stairs, but she's only awake enough to just smile sleepily at him.

"Hey, Asteroid, what's up?" he asks as she passes him. Cas takes the breakfast boxes from Sam and gives Dean a look ( _you take him, I'll handle Astrid_ ) as he goes to follow her into the kitchen. As soon as they're out of earshot, Sam's face drops.

"What happened?" Dean sighs, motions for Sam to follow him over to the bay window. They sit on the window seat, lined with cushions that Anna picked out and reupholstered when Astrid was a baby and spat-up all over them. "Dean, you're scaring me, what happened?"

"Anna's dead, Sam."

Dean doesn't know what he says next, he thinks he tells him the details, but it's like his mind goes blank and he hears himself talking, but he doesn't know what he's saying. All he knows is when he resurfaces, his cheeks are wet, and Sam's face is horrified, sad, and angry. They can just barely hear Cas and Astrid talking.

"But...what about Astrid?"

**Fact: none of them knew what would happen to Astrid.**

***

Astrid, of course, had questions. They were directed at all three of them, even though Sam knew as much as she did. Cas and Dean tried to tone down the answers to be appropriate for an almost-six-year-old, but questions like, "why?" and "how?" were hard. Dean seriously considered quoting Kansas for the "why?" part but figured it was the last thing Cas needed.

After breakfast, Cas calls a friend of the family that Anna had contacted after Astrid was born. Zachariah is, to put it bluntly, a dick. He hates Dean, and the feeling is mutual, but he's also the family lawyer and made Anna's will when she decided that she needed one, since she had a child. Zachariah promises to come by later in the week and talk about the will.

Astrid stays close to Dean and Cas all day. Dean's arms are sore from carrying her by four o'clock. Sam also stays, but it's mostly because Cas asked him to stay and help contact family. He gives him a list of family members he knows and is on speaking terms with, plus Mary and John, and puts him to work calling them. Dean calls Kansas with him. They don't know how to handle Mary crying when she hears the news, but John takes the phone and asks the right questions for it’s not to matter too much.

Gabe gets stony on the phone. Kali takes the phone from him, thanks Sam for telling them, and hangs up to handle Gabe. Cas calls Raphael and Uriel, their very unfortunately named older brothers, and gets in an honest-to-god fight with them over the phone about who's to blame for it. Dean ends up taking the phone from him and hanging it up for him. He can tell Cas is spread too thin and close to losing it. Cas stares at the phone for a while before dialing his oldest brother Michael's number. Michael, from what Castiel and Anna have told Dean, seems kind of like their father: fleeting and mostly absent from family functions.

No one calls Luci. He hasn't been seen or heard from in years and no one wants to talk to him.

Cas seems rigid on the phone with Michael, almost like a soldier. He answers in one-syllable words after telling him their sister is dead. When he hangs up, he slumps in the chair, drained.

"He wanted to know if our parents had been contacted," he says after a while. "As if I have their current numbers."

***

The funeral takes place a week after her death. It gives people time to arrive. Mr. and Mrs. Milton can't be reached (as usual. Dean’s not even sure they know they have a grandchild), but Gabe says he left messages letting them know.  The funeral is sad. Everyone cries. Before the service, they all look positively heartbroken, and talk very gently to Astrid, who refuses to leave Cas, Dean or Sam's arms until they take their seats in the pews. It's close-casket, but the wake was the day before. Dean thought that the funeral home did a good job of cleaning her up. Astrid refused to go into Anna's room to say goodbye, where she'd been laid out. She ended up sleeping in Cas' bed that night.

Astrid holds Cas and Dean's hands in the graveyard as the coffin is lowered into the ground. She doesn't quite understand, they realize that, but she knows enough.

By the time the final member of the Milton family (Gabe; Kali had been called away on business in India suddenly two days before the funeral) left, Astrid is asleep on Sam's lap. He, Cas, and Dean spent the last two hours of the reception on the couch. Cas jumped up only when people started leaving. Dean eventually joined him, too.

"Give her to me," Dean says softly, holding his hands out. Sam wriggles his arms around her, lifting her, and Dean cradles her against him. She's getting tall, too big to hold, but he rearranges the tangle of limbs around him so that she's almost clinging to him and carries her up to her room. He pops her shoes off (black, patent leather, the kind that Cas had been instructed to buy by Anna) and changes her out of the dark blue dress into pajamas (an old Tisch T-shirt, one of Anna's, and cotton pants) and tucks her in. He presses a kiss to her forehead and closes the door quietly behind him.

***

**Fact: Dean hates Zachariah.**

Zachariah shows up about an hour after Gabe leaves. Dean's taken off his tie and jacket by now, and is sitting in what remains of a kitchen, surrounded by plastic sandwich trays and forgotten Solo cups, when the doorbell rings. Sam answers it, and comes into the kitchen with an older, mostly bald man with a huge nose and a perpetual smirk. Sam looks confused, but Cas greets him before he can ask.

"Thank you for coming," Cas says, motioning for them to sit. Zachariah slides into the chair next to Dean, smiling at him.

"Sorry I couldn't come sooner. There were, setbacks, if you will." Dean frowns.

"Like?" he asks. Zachariah barely throws a glance toward him.

"Like," he says, his face falling slightly (irritated that Dean's even breathing, probably), "Anna Milton created a second will."


	3. Two

  
**Fact: Anna was a sneaky bitch and Dean loved that about her.**

"A second will?" Cas recovers first.

"Yes, with one of our younger lawyers," Zachariah's face twists into something of discontent. "He brought it to my attention the day I was supposed to meet with you." He produces a manila folder and sets it in front of him on the table. He opens it, flips through it, and points to what is very much Anna's signature.

"She never mentioned it to you?" Sam says, frowning slightly.

"No."

"Can she do that?"

"She already has," Zachariah says, almost through his teeth. "At any rate, from what I can see there's very few changes. More things are left to Dean and you, Sam, than previous, but other than that--"

"What about Astrid?" Dean interrupts. Zachariah finally looks at him, irritated.

"I was getting to that," he says, trying to keep patient.

**Fact: Zachariah is not a patient man.**

"In the original will, it states that custody first goes to Castiel Milton, but can be deflected, if necessary, to Mary and John Winchester, who have been informed of this," He looks up. "I take it none of you were aware of this."

"You'd think it would've come up in conversation at some point," Dean mutters. Cas nods in agreement, just a little.

"In this version, Anna has granted joint custody to Castiel Milton and Dean Winchester," Everyone's heads snap towards the will. Zachariah even does a double-take, like he can't believe what he just read out loud.

"Wait, what?" Dean cranes his head to read. Sure enough, he catches Astrid's, Cas', and his name all in the same sentence.

"Well, there it is, then," Zachariah said. "I brought guardianship papers, if you'd like to fill them out now."

***

The weeks following the funeral are strange. Astrid seems to have finally run out of questions, and Sam goes back to his apartment with Jess, who came back early for the funeral. Sam hasn't mentioned marrying her since the night Anna died, and Dean thinks that it'll be a while before he brings it up again.

Cas throws himself into art, bringing research home with him and holing himself up in the study at the end of the hall upstairs, drowning in dead painters and potential exhibits. Dean buries himself elbow-deep in grease and car parts, to the point where Bobby threatens to pack him in the Impala's trunk and drive him home himself. Astrid tries to go back to school, she does, but Cas, Dean, and Sam all get calls around lunch to come get her. When Cas or Dean picks her up, Sam gets her from their jobs and takes her back to his place, where he and Jessica -- who are done with school for the summer -- do their best to entertain her.

**Fact: Cas and Dean do not talk about Anna, or her death, or anything to do with her, to each other.**

They get a fruit basket a few days after the funeral from the cast of her show, the one going up right around Astrid's birthday. Anna's assistant director has taken over but it's so close to opening night that there's nothing to change, just to run through it and check and double-check costumes. The fruit basket sits on the counter, untouched, even by Astrid. Jess eventually comes over to drop off Astrid after Cas gets home, sees the now rotting fruit, and throws it out, before sending Astrid upstairs to find Cas so she can corner Dean and give him an earful about how he can't just let the world end because his best friend died and he's got a person to look after, what the hell are you doing, Dean Winchester.

**Fact: if Sam doesn't marry Jess, Dean probably will, for him.**

By the time the papers are finalized and the background checks are done, Dean Winchester and Castiel Milton are the proud guardians of Astrid Marie Milton. Astrid doesn't really understand what all that means, because she  _already_ lived with them, why did they need to sign paper for it?

Astrid asks Cas one night at dinner if she can skip kindergarten graduation. She won't say why she doesn't want to go, just that she doesn't. She hasn't had a full day of school since the day Anna died. Cas doesn't answer, but Dean tells her she doesn't have to go if she doesn't want. The rest of dinner is spent in silence that night.

The night before the day of the graduation ceremony that Astrid isn't going to, she isn't able to sleep. Dean puts her to bed, because Cas lost rock-paper-scissors and had to do the dishes, takes a really fast and really quiet shower, and goes into his room to change into pajamas and is just heading for the stairs when motion catches the corner of his eye. He turns, and there's a flash of dark hair disappearing behind the crack between Astrid's door and the frame. Dean pushes his way in.

"Go to sleep, 'Strid," he says, gently. She looks at him, sitting upright in her bed, with wide, scared blue eyes ( _just like Cas'_ ). "Baby girl, it's way past your bedtime." She nods, eyes still big and scared, and starts to lie down. Dean flips the switch of her nightlight as he leaves, and closes the door behind him. When he gets back to the kitchen, it's nearly spotless and Cas is poring over a manila folder.

"Whatcha doin'?" Dean asks, dropping down next to him. Cas barely glances up.

"Researching."

"New exhibit?"

"They're talking about doing an exhibition dedicated to angels," Dean raises an eyebrow, but Cas continues. "History of them, how they've been depicted in art throughout the centuries, that sort of thing."

"That's a little…out of character," Cas looks up. "I mean, like, last year they did that McQueen thing, right? And now they're doing angels?"

"It's the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Dean. They can show whatever they want," Dean puts his hands up in surrender. "Is Astrid asleep?"

"She wasn't when I was up there, but I think she was settling down. Do you think we're keeping her up too late?"

"She's nearly six. What time did you go to bed when you were six?"

"You think I remember that far back?" Cas just looks at him. "Seriously, though, do you think we are?"

"I think that we're totally unqualified to be raising a child on our own," Something twists inside Dean at the mention of "we" and "our," and maybe he has the urge to --  _something_ ,  but he ignores it because now is  _not the time_.

**Fact: he shouldn't have ignored it. It would've made the next year much easier.**

"We were doing okay before."

"Before, we weren't the ones calling the shots," Castiel points out, closing the folder, and that's when Dean knows he's crossed a line. Cas is a multitasker. Dean's seen him make dinner, read about art, and carry on a conversation with Anna all at once. He only focuses on one thing when he needs a distraction or is extremely irritated.

"Not all of them, but --"

"Dean, before, when was the last time you made a conscious decision regarding Astrid before consulting her mother?" Dean opens his mouth to argue, realizes Cas has a point ( _dammit_ ), and closes it again. Cas raises his eyebrows, and the light catches his eyes, just for a second. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed, waiting.

"Okay, you have a point," Dean admits, and Castiel better fucking  _savor_ this moment because Dean Winchester does not admit defeat easily. Cas makes a face like, "well, of  _course_  I'm right," but Dean continues, "But this was bound to happen eventually, right? We were gonna have to do this with our own kids someday, right? Make decisions on our own and shit?"

Cas opens his mouth to answer, but stops, and tilts his head toward the front of the house. He frowns, gets up, and heads for the stairs.

"Cas?" Dean gets up and follows him. Cas is frozen at the base of the stairs, and from where he's standing in the living room, Dean can see tiny feet with blue nail polish on the toes resting on one of the steps.

"Astrid, what are you doing out of bed?" Cas asks.

"Can't sleep," she whispers, holding her arms out to him. Cas kneels on one of the steps and picks her up. She rests her head on the space between his neck and shoulder, looking  up at him.

"Well, it's almost time for us to go to bed, right, Dean?" Cas says, looking over at him. Dean nods vigorously, maybe a little too dramatically.

"Definitely. We've got plans for tomorrow." Astrid frowns.

"Like what?"

"Like, surprises," Cas says, completely serious. "But we can't do them if you don't sleep." He looks at Dean. "I'll take her." Dean nods, and Cas heads for the stairs. He comes back down in plaid pajama bottoms and what looks suspiciously like Dean's missing Led Zeppelin shirt.

**Fact: when Dean moved in, and his laundry got added to the basket, Anna hadn't even tried to separate his and Cas' clothes when it was her turn to take clothes to the laundromat. Eventually, Dean and Cas gave up on trying to separate it when it was their turns.**

"She go down?"

"I think so," Cas says, frowning at the folder he left on the table. "She seemed…hesitant." Cas looks up at him. "You know she's been in my room more than her own lately?"

"Mine, too, dude. You think she's sleeping the night in her bed?" Cas looks surprised, something rare. "I don't even think I wake up when she comes in. I woke up a few days ago and her head was in my armpit. Scared the shit outta me." Cas smiles and his bottom lip all but disappears, trying not to laugh. "Shut up, Cas, don't even try to pretend you wouldn't've been surprised."

"Dean Winchester scares?" he teases. Dean shrugs.

**Fact: Dean's biggest fear is losing Cas and Astrid.**

They go to bed shortly after Astrid. Cas leaves his door open just a crack and turns off all the lights in the hallway but leaves the bathroom on. Dean shuts his door after entering, but changes his mind and opens it just a little before going to bed.

He dreams of red hair and blue eyes and a smile that he hasn't seen in weeks and being a family (because that was what they were, wasn't it? Are they still that, without her?) and wakes up suddenly. In the darkness, a pair of big blue eyes are staring at him, wide and scared.

"Astrid?" He rubs his face, sitting up, glancing at the clock. "It's two in the morning, what's wrong?"

"Can't sleep."

"I thought you were bunking with Cas."

"He talks," Dean almost laughs. "Mommy's room is all dark." He frowns.

"Did you wanna go in there, 'Strid?" She shrugs. "Baby girl, you can go in if you want."

"Don't wanna upset you," she mumbles. Dean's frown gets deeper.

"Upset me?"

"And Cas." Dean sighs, gets out of bed, and scoops her up in one arm. She clings to his neck, surprised. Dean stops in front of Anna's door, closes his eyes, and opens it.

Her room is in pristine condition. Castiel and Jess cleaned it before the wake. Her bed is neatly made and her vanity is organized. Dean peels back the comforter and drops Astrid onto the bed, tucking her back into Anna's bed. She burrows in immediately, burying her face in the pillows. He thinks he remembers doing the same thing with Mary's pillows on the rare events that he had a nightmare and she took him into hers and John's room for the night.

He doesn't know how long Astrid had been awake but she's asleep almost instantly. Something warm fills his chest and he think it might be -- God help him -- something  _fatherly_.

**Fact: aside from Sammy, Dean never thought of himself as a father figure to anyone.**

He turns, doesn't shut the door all the way as he goes, and crosses the hallway back into his room and collapses on his bed and tries to sleep.

***

"Dean.  _Dean_. Get up!" He grunts into the pillow under his face, swatting in the direction of the sound. "Dean, Astrid is in Anna's room!"

"I know," he mumbles, rolling over and away from Cas, who he knows has that look of concern, but also fear, but also what-the-hell-is-going-on on his face right now and judging from the sunlight streaming into his room it's  _too fucking early_  for that. "I put her there last night, she wanted to go. Lemme sleep."

"What? Why?" Dean scrunches his face and rolls over, opening his eyes. So much for sleeping in.

"Because she couldn't sleep and she said that you talk or something and she said she wanted to," he says, sitting up. "She's been having all these nightmares and she's been scared to sleep and last night was the first night since the funeral that she's slept for more than two hours at a time, unless I slept through her screaming or something." Cas shakes his head.

"No, she didn't wake up. That's why I was concerned. She wasn't in her room, or with you, I thought --"

"Cas, relax. She's fine."

**Fact: she wasn't. None of them were.**

***

Astrid gets to sleep in, like Dean had planned until Castiel had his mini-panic-attack. When she wakes up, Cas has pancakes ready and Astrid tries to get the surprise out of them but they won't tell her and it drives her up the wall.

Dean has to go into work because he missed a lot when Anna died and he's certain that although Bobby is forgiving, he's not unconditional. He and Cas have already agreed to meet in the afternoon, and Astrid goes with Dean to the garage.

Bobby thinks Astrid's hilarious. She's a prime example of the theory that you are your environment because she sure as hell didn't pick up any of the traits Dean remembered Cas telling him about Chuck what's-his-face. She did, however, pick up Dean's eye-rolling, sarcasm, wit, and innocent smile they could get away with murder with.

Astrid sits on the hood of a car that's just waiting for the customer to pick it up, watching Dean work on cars. Every now and then he surfaces from under the hood, holds up a car part, tells her what it's called, and she repeats it, nodding, or he asks her to pass him a tool. She's spent upwards of four years in the garage, she knows what everything's called and Dean knows that and it makes him smile just a little.

Bobby shoos them out at lunch. Cas called him that morning, told him the plan, and told him to get Dean out of the garage if he tried to work late.

"Winchester, get your ass outta here!" Bobby shouts, coming across the garage, brandishing a wrench at him. "Your boyfriend's gonna have my hide for a coat if you don't meet up with him!" Astrid giggles. Dean stares at him.

"My -- what?"

"He means Cas, Dean," Astrid says like it's obvious.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"He's your friend who's a boy," she says, tilting her head to the side like Cas does (and Anna did). Dean opens his mouth to explain, changes his mind, and grabs the hand towel tucked into his belt and starts mopping himself up. Astrid somehow got car grease across her face and Cas will skin  _him_  if she shows up dirty so he starts wiping at her face, too. She shrieks, trying to swat him away, laughing.

"C'mon, 'Strid, Cas'll kill me," he whines, trying to get her to hold still long enough. Bobby just watches them, and Dean swears he hears him trying not to laugh. Jerk.

When she's clean enough, he throws the towel back onto his toolbox and throws her over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Bobby."

"Bye, Bobby!" Astrid calls, trying to look up at him. Bobby musses her hair, smiling.

"See you, girlie. Keep this one in line, okay?" He looks up at Dean. "Have fun."

***

Castiel has a picnic waiting for them in Central Park. Astrid's thrilled; they haven't seen her smile that big in a long time. She sits cross-legged on the blanket, munching on a sandwich Cas picked up from a deli close by the Met, across from Cas and Dean, who are propped up on their elbows, legs hanging off into the grass.

"Dean, how come you said that Cas isn't your boyfriend?" Astrid asks out of a while. Cas chokes for a second, and Dean drops his sandwich.

"What?" they say together. She looks at both of them.

"Uncle Bobby called you his boyfriend, but Dean said you're not, but aren't you?" Cas frowns at Dean, who looks at Astrid.

"'Strid, he didn't mean, like, friend-who's-a-boy. He meant it like, um --"

"Like Auntie Jess and Uncle Sam," Cas cuts in. "She's his girlfriend and he's her boyfriend. Like that."

"Oh," she looks down, thoughtfully. "But why is he her boyfriend but Cas isn't yours?"

"Because --"

"’Cause they live together, too."

"That's different," Dean says, before Cas can say anything. "They live together because they love each other. Like how Grandma and Grandpa love each other, or Uncle Gabe and Aunt Kali." Dean makes a mental note to never compare Sam and Jessica to his parents,  _ever_  again. Because ew.

"But you and Cas love each other, right?"

"Of course," Cas says, quickly. "But not the same way."

***

On Astrid's birthday, Gabe comes down. He lives in Maine but he's Astrid's favorite non-New-York uncle (because really, Sam wins that game every time, because, "Dean, you guys aren't really uncles. You're cooler. Don't tell Uncle Sammy.") and he hasn't had time to come down lately. They hadn't seen him since Christmas, before Anna's funeral. Kali comes, too. Sam and Jess come over and they bring Bones, even though Dean's certain the dog has something against him.

"So, how's it going around here?" Gabe asks, practically setting up shop on the couch, beer in one hand. "How's she doing?"

"As well as could be expected," Cas answers. "She's starting to sleep more again."

"In Anna's room," Dean adds. "She's sleeping in Anna's room."

"She didn't go to kindergarten graduation," Cas says, thoughtfully. "But she hadn't really been to school since the funeral."

"Oh, the elementary school called, they wanted to confirm Astrid'd be joining them in September."

"You two are so married," Sam walks into the room, a beer in one hand and Astrid in the other. He sets her down next to Gabe. "Astrid, don't they sound married?"

"I dunno," she shrugs.

"Oh, shut up, Sammy, have you  _seen_  you and Jess? Talk about married."

"Dean, you gotta put a dollar in the jar. You can't say shut up," Astrid tells him, crossing her arms. Sam smirks, passes him the jar.

"You're so lucky there's a kid here," Dean hisses at him.

***

Jess and Kali are best friends. Really, it's a little terrifying. Upon arrival, they took over the kitchen and threw Cas out, which hadn't happened since before Anna died. Jess insists on making birthday cakes from scratch, and Kali cooks almost as good as Cas.

There's a loud, horribly off-key round of "Happy Birthday" after dinner, complete with birthday candles that don't actually go out, courtesy of Gabriel. Astrid blows them out six times before they go out for real. Gabe thinks it's hilarious.

Astrid stays up late because it's her birthday and Cas and Dean are pushovers. Sam and Jess go home around nine-thirty, but Gabe and Kali stay overnight in the guest room that Dean and Sam stayed in so many years ago.

Astrid changes into pajamas and sits on Cas' bed, waiting. Dean sticks his head in the doorway.

"Astrid, what are you doing?" She shrugs. "Where's Cas?"

"Bathroom. Brushing his teeth,"

"Are you ready for bed?"

"Uh-huh," she nods.

"Do you wanna try sleeping in your room tonight?" She shrugs. "How about you start in there, tonight? If you change your mind, you can sleep in Mom's room, or wake Cas or me up." She nods, gets off Cas' bed, and follows Dean.

**Fact: Astrid doesn't get a full night of sleep, in _anyone’s_ bed, for a long time.**


	4. Three

Astrid ends up in Cas' bed the night of her birthday. She bed-hops for a few days, jumping between Cas and Dean, whenever Cas' sleep-talking or Dean's snoring ("I  _do not!_ " "Yes, you _do_.") keeps her up. After a few days, she ends up in Anna's room again. Then, suddenly, she switches back to her room, a week after her birthday.

A week after her birthday, Astrid wakes up screaming bloody murder. Dean's out of his room, baseball bat in hand, ready to beat whoever broke in senseless, faster than Cas, and bursts into Astrid's room to find the six-year-old very alone, very scared, and very teary. He stands there, baseball bat brandished like a sword, for a second, until Cas comes in, shoves him aside, because "Dean, you're scaring her even more, put that away," and scoops her up and tries to get her to calm down. It's almost like when she was a baby, and colicky, and they knew Anna had a big exam the next day so for God's sake let's get her to sleep.

It continues, every night. Some nights, it's just crying, but loud enough for at least one of them to hear. Other nights, the nights that scare Dean and Cas the most, she can't be consoled, can't stop, and the next day her throat is sore and hoarse and if they're being perfectly honest, she sounds a bit like  _them_  when she talks.

Dean wakes up faster than Cas; he always has. He thinks it might be because of when Sam was little and they were so close to each other's rooms and he always heard Sam before their parents. He, more often than Cas, is the one to get her, to walk her around her room in his arms, trying to get her to just stop, calm down, and sleep, just for a little while. Cas sometimes wakes up, but stands in Astrid's doorway, watching them.

**Fact: Dean is lost. So is Cas.**

Sam and Jess come over for dinner a couple weeks after Astrid's birthday. Astrid is quiet; she hasn't slept properly in weeks. Cas and Dean keep looking over at each other every time she yawns. Jessica doesn't let Cas do the dishes. Instead, she drags Sam and Dean into the kitchen to help her so Cas can put her to bed.

"So, what's up with 'Strid?" Sam asks as he dries a plate and stacks it on the counter. "She was practically falling asleep in her plate. Are you guys drugging her or something so she's more manageable?" Dean shoves him, but he barely moves, fucking tree of a brother.

"She hasn't been sleeping," Dean says, not looking at him, focusing on putting the clean dishes where they belong. "She's been having nightmares. She won't tell us what their about, but it's pretty obvious."

"She won't talk to you?"

"A few days before her birthday, she was scared to go into Anna's room. She said she didn't wanna upset us. Why the hell would it upset us?"

"She's  _six_ , Dean," Sam says like it explains everything.

"Gee, thanks for your insight."

"What he means is, she's six, and she doesn't get it, and she's scared of losing everyone else," Jess says gently. "Put yourself in her shoes. If you were a little kid, and just lost your mom, wouldn't you be scared of upsetting your dad even more?" He didn't answer.

"Why won't she talk to you about it?" Sam asks.

"Same reason she was scared to bring up Anna, probably," Dean says, shrugging. "Girls are weird, man, I don't know."

"She's just a kid, Dean."

"How are you, though?" Jess asks, which makes Dean looks up at her. "You guys have spent every spare minute making sure she's okay, which, from what you've said, you don't think she is. How're you and Cas doing?"

Cas comes through the kitchen, right as Dean's about to answer her, and collapses in the chair. "You would not believe the song and dance I just went through to get her to sleep."

"She's making you Broadway material, Cas," Sam teases. Cas almost smiles, and looks up at Dean.

"You're on bedtime duty from now on. She goes down, no problem, with you. I don't understand it."

"Dude, she's got, like, four lullabies she cycles through, and you know a grand total of one of them," Dean says. "They're not even, like, 'twinkle, twinkle, little star' or anything, they're legit songs that anyone with a radio and a decent taste in music -- which you have -- would know. You'd think you were raised under a rock or something."

"No, just Catholics," he replies airily. "Conservative Catholics who wanted to keep us out of the fires of hell and its elevator music." Sam frowns.

"Dean, don't you sing, like, 'Smoke on the Water' to her?"

"Everyone likes Deep Purple, dude." Sam rolls his eyes.

"What were you talking about before?" Cas asks, leaning an elbow on the table.

"Astrid's lack of sleep," Dean says. Cas nods.

"She talks, have you noticed?"

"Yeah, she's always asking for Anna." Cas looks guilty. "What?"

"No, I just -- she should be here," He looks at the floor, and then up at Dean. "She should be here. She'd know what to do."

Dean says nothing, but turns to put glasses away.

***

**Fact: in the weeks following, Sam and Jessica left notes, sent texts and emails, and even left a few voicemails with the names and numbers of children's therapists all over Brooklyn and New York City.**

At first, Dean passes it off as Sammy being a girl and trying to help in his own annoying way. Whatever. He sticks the handwritten notes in a drawer, and files the emails into his "Sam" (aka "Sam Sends Me Chick-Flick Stuff And I'm Saving Them For Future Blackmail") folder and forgets about them.

But then Jess's handwriting appears on the notes and her voice on the answering machine. They start multiplying. The notes in the drawer start taking over, and his Sam folder has a little number in the triple-digits next to it telling him just how much Sam's sent. Astrid still won't sleep through the night, even if she moves into one of their rooms.

"Do you think Sam has a point?" Cas asks one night after Astrid's gone to bed. They're watching a baseball game, the first time in a while that that's happened.

"About?" Dean asks, taking a swig of beer.

"A therapist. For Astrid," Dean raises an eyebrow. "Dean, she hasn't slept properly since before Anna died."

"Have any of us?"

"No, because  _she_  hasn't," Dean sighs. Cas is in one of his  _moods_ , the ones that don't let up until someone admits he's right and Dean's not in the mood to give in that easily. "I'm worried about her. And you, if I'm being honest." Both eyebrows go up.

"Me?"

"You haven't said a word about the subject since that night," He tilts his head to the side. "I assumed you'd talk eventually, but --"

"Cas, there's nothing to say. She's gone. I'm fine," Cas frowns. "Don't give me that look."

"Dean, I don't think --"

"What about you, Castiel?" Cas almost flinches at his full name. "Sam and Jess are asking me about you just as much as they’re asking about me. You've been awfully quiet, lately, how are  _you_  doing?"

"Dean, don't try to turn this around, I'm trying to understand you. It's been what, seven years, and for the first time, I can't understand how your thought process is working unless it's about Astrid."

"I'm fine!" he says, a little louder than necessary. "I'm handling it. I've handled it. It's dust in the wind."

**Fact: he wasn't.**

***

**Fact: Dean wakes up early on that Saturday morning and goes to the cemetery.**

He leaves a note on the kitchen table saying he went out to pick up breakfast and he'd be back soon, but that was only half-true.

He considers picking up flowers, but Anna's grave is still fresh, there's bound to be flowers there, still. Besides, he can't think of any place open at this ungodly hour.

Anna's buried toward the center of the graveyard, with a simple gray granite headstone with her name, dates of birth and death, that "beloved daughter, sister, and mother" crap, and some literary quote he doesn't know. He debates with himself for a moment, and then sits down in front of it, criss-crossed legs.

"Hey," he says, trying to smile. "Haven't seen me in a while, have you."

Silence for a moment. It's getting warmer, to the point where he can go out without a jacket at six-thirty in the morning. Of course, that means it'll be a week before Cas starts wearing shorts on the weekends.

"So, I don't know where you are right now, but I know you believed in heaven, so I hope you're there," He looks at the grass in front of him. "I don't know what I believe. You knew that, though. You knew everything about us. All of us. Me, Cas, Sammy, even Jess. You were like our mom when we couldn't talk to the real thing." He looks at her name, a blade of grass between his fingers, absently twirling and peeling it into skinnier pieces.

"Do you remember the first time Astrid wouldn't go to sleep? You kept freaking out because you thought she would never sleep again and then die from sleep deprivation. You were just as hysterical as her. I ended up calling my mom at two in the morning to ask her what to do. And do you remember what she said? 'Dean, she has a colic, she'll grow out of it, google it, tell Anna to calm down and get some rest, this can't be good for her education, and don't ever call me this early ever again or I'll skin you.'" He laughs at the memory. "You sent flowers to her to apologize the next day." He looks down at his hands.

"Astrid's been having nightmares," He looks up. "But you probably knew that. You knew everything about her, just like you did the rest of us. God, it was scary, sometimes, it was like you could read her mind. You always knew what was up with her. Me and Cas, we can't tell shit half the time. Sammy says that maybe she should see someone, like a therapist, because it's obvious what she's dreaming about." He takes a breath, dropping what's left of the blade of grass. "Cas wants me to see someone too. Says I've been different or something." He shrugs. "He hasn't been talking just as much as I haven't, fuckin' hypocrite." He falls silent for a moment. "Maybe I should, though," he says, looking up at her headstone. "Just -- for Astrid's sake, you know? So I don't go nuts and leave Cas alone with her. But -- he should go, too, right? He can't be okay. You were his sister, for God's sake. I can't imagine what that'd be like, if I lost Sammy like he lost you." The very concept makes his stomach drop and he doesn't say anything for a while.

A church bell rings. Who the hell goes to Saturday morning mass?

"I should go. Astrid and Cas'll be up soon and I was supposed to pick up breakfast," He stands up, looks at Anna's grave one last time, and says, "I can't understand why you thought me and him were the perfect parents for your kid, Anna. We haven't got a goddamn clue. Seriously, what were you thinking?"

**Fact: Anna Milton was, is, and will always be smarter than Dean Winchester and Castiel Milton.**


	5. Four

Dean wakes up in the middle of the night, a few days after deciding that he would see a therapist if Cas would too, covered in sweat, come, and memories.  
  
This isn't the first time it's happened, but somehow, this time, it seals Dean's fate: he's absolutely fucked.  
  
 **Fact: upon meeting him, Dean thought Cas was gorgeous.**  
  
Sam spotted it from a mile off about a month after Dean dropped Adam's stuff off at college and met the Miltons. They were creeping on Anna's and Cas' MySpaces or whatever, when Sam nearly shoved Dean out of his seat to get a better look at a picture of Cas, Anna, and someone who they would later recognize to be Gabe.  
  
"This is the Castiel you haven't shut up about?" he practically squealed, grinning hugely. "The dude in the middle, right? Not the guy that looks like Uncle Joey."  
  
"Okay, first of all, that dude looks nothing like him. Second, yeah, that's Cas, so what?" Sam, at this point, was making Mooney eyes over the photo. "Dude, your girl is showing."  
  
"Dean, he's so exactly your type I could cry!"  
  
"What? I don't have a type, I like all types."  
  
"No way, man, this is the kind of guy you'd go out with. How tall is he? He's shorter than you, right? How tall is his sister, then? Is she taller than you? It's not hard to do, though, so probably --"  
  
"Shut up, Sam."   
  
Sam smirked at him every time his phone went off for the next week.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean never thought he had a shot with Cas. That was why he never asked him out and they stayed in the friend-zone for so long.**  
  
When he and Sam moved in, it got trickier. Cas, at that point, wasn't seeing anybody -- a guy named Inias or some shit had lasted the longest, six months, according to Anna, but he was out of the picture by the time they were all living together. So, Cas was single, Dean was single, Sam was single, and Anna had a newborn baby who demanded attention at every waking second and who only slept for two or three hours at a time.   
  
**Fact: Nobody got laid that summer.**  
  
The following summer, Astrid was a year old, slept through the night most nights, and was much more manageable. That summer, Cas was seeing this girl, Meg Masters, which confused the hell out of everyone, because wasn't Cas gay?

To this day, Dean denies any chick-flick moments with Cas about the subject, but Sam knows that there was a heart-to-heart about it, at least.  
  
***  
  
The summer Astrid turned two is one that is forever burned into their minds, but no one talks about it. Sam and Jess know better than to mention it.  
  
Anna suggested going to the Pride Parade that year. Dean shut down that idea very quickly, but she dragged in Sam and Jess, who were all for it, and even Cas thought it'd be fun. Dean eventually gave in, after Sam's puppy-dog-eyes, Anna's begging, and Jess and Cas' promises to bake for him for a month afterward.  
  
Dean didn't know what to make of Pride at first. Literally, everyone was eyeballing him. Well, all of them, even Anna who had Astrid on her hip. He still doesn't know whether it was the very cute blonde; the tall, muscular ginger; or the drag queen, that grabbed his ass when they finally got to the front to see the floats. After a while, though, he got into it and actually found himself having fun, God help him.  
  
"So did it hurt?" Dean snapped his head around. A guy, who Dean had noticed earlier staring at Cas' ass, was leaning up against the guardrail and smiling -- more like leering -- at Cas. Cas tilted his head.   
  
"Did what hurt?"  
  
"When you fell out of heaven." Cas frowned.  
  
"That's not possible, heaven's not the kind of place that --"  
  
"Cas, it's a pickup line," Dean said, almost feeling bad that he had to explain that. At the same time, he didn't like the way  
this tool was looking at him. "Not that you're available or anything, right?" Cas opened his mouth, probably to say something like, "I'm not?" but Dean didn't let him. Instead, he grabbed him and kissed him full on the mouth.   
  
It wasn't bad. In fact, it was actually kind of nice.   
  
Cas made a surprised, shocked noise at first but then his hands were in Dean's hair and why the hell hadn't they tried this sooner?  
  
When they pulled apart, the douchecanoe was gone, and Dean felt himself going very red.   
  
"Uh, yeah, you're welcome," he said, looking for the others. "You see Anna or Sammy anywhere?"  
  
 **Fact: Anna went home early, but Dean and Cas stayed out later. And got wasted.**  
  
Sam and Jess were visiting her family and had to pack, so they left, too, but after Anna. Dean found a gay bar and all but dragged Cas into it. By this point, they'd already forgone the shirts and were covered in sweat, paint, and glitter. No one commented, though, because everyone else was pretty much the same.  
  
Six shots, three beers, and two fruity drinks that probably had every kind of booze mixed into it later, Dean probably couldn't spell Cas' full name.   
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas, Caaaaaaasssssss," he chanted, leaning against the bar, one hand reaching out and trying to grab him.  
  
"I'm right here, Dean," he said, slurry and just as drunk as Dean. He leaned into Dean's arm, breaking the personal space  
code that had been agreed upon when the Winchesters moved in and was only broken when they were watching a movie with the throw blanket that was way too small for four people and a baby but they made it work anyway. Dean didn't notice, just tugged him closer and planted a sloppy kiss across the side of his face.  
  
"Dude, you're like super hot, okay? Like, seriously, damn. Even Sammy thought so when he first saw you in a picture. He was all, dude, Dean, he's your type, you should get on that, like, yesterday," Dean giggled. "But I didn't, ‘cause you were seeing someone when we visited."  
  
"I didn't like him that much. But I like you. Like, a lot."  
  
"Me too, man. You're, like, awesome. The bestest-est, ever. Hey, bartender! How 'bout another round?"  
  
"I think you should take this home, guys," the bartender, a big burly guy, the kind of guy that Bobby would set Dean up with, started clearing away the dirty glasses.   
  
Anna took the Impala but it was late; she was probably asleep and if they called they'd probably wake up Astrid before anyone else. They hailed a cab, but Cas did all the talking while Dean got very handsy and pulled Cas by his belt loops for a very sloppy kiss on the mouth, nothing like what had happened today in front of the tool douchecanoe guy.   
  
"Guys, keep it clean back there, it's public property," the Cabbie warned them, glaring at them in the window. Dean waved, half-acknowledgement, half-dismissal.   
  
Dean practically threw the money at the Cabbie when they arrived in front of the brownstone and didn't bother to wait for change. Cas had him pinned up against the front door, tongue very much in Dean's mouth. Dean's hands were in Cas' hair and Cas' hands were just everywhere.  
  
Dean swears he doesn't remember what happened that night.   
  
The next morning they woke up naked, tangled in each other, in Cas' bed. They could hear Sam calling them for breakfast, coming up the stairs, stopping at Dean's door.  
  
"Dean, get up, Anna made bacon -- Dean?" Cas' door opened. "Holy shit. Should I -- I'll just --"  
  
"We'll be right down," Cas told him. Sam nodded, pulled the door shut behind him as he got the hell out.   
  
Cas lent Dean pajamas -- he couldn't very well do the Walk of Shame in his own house -- and they went downstairs after cleaning themselves up. Jess and Anna grinned at them when they showed up in the kitchen, shoving plates of bacon and sausage at them. Sam couldn't look either of them in the face. Astrid asked when they could go to "the glitter parade" again.  
  
They didn't speak to each other for a week. It was the first time they went without talking to each other. Anna gave them both questioning looks but never actually called them out on it. Sam, once he got over his ew-I-walked-in-on-my-brother mood or whatever, looked confused (although Dean suspected that it was just because he shipped Dean and Cas with the mighty fist of God and didn't understand why they weren't, like, planning their wedding or something). Even Astrid looked at them weird.   
  
Jess, Sam, and Anna abandoned helping them with the dishes in favor of watching a Disney movie with Astrid exactly a week later. There was a tense silence until Dean finally got off his stupid high horse and said, "Look, dude, I don't remember shit about whatever happened, so --"  
  
"I don't, either," Cas said immediately.  
  
"Oh. Well, why the hell have we been skirting around each other?" Cas seemed to seriously ponder the question for a moment, before: "Dude, rhetorical question. Don't answer."  
  
"Are we okay?"  
  
"You're my best friend, Cas. We're better than okay."  
  
(Dean maintains that he never said something as chick-flick-y as that.)  
  
 **Fact: both of them remembered what happened that night.**  
  
***  
  
Of course, the memories that Dean lies about remembering still surface every now and then. So, yeah, he has fantasies, sue him! The beauty of them is that they're fantasies, right? It's not like they'll ever happen in real life.  
  
The dream always starts out the same and he knows what's happening and what's about to happen but for some reason he can't wake himself up in time. Dean thinks his subconscious hates him, sometimes.  
  
They're in the Impala. Going home. Anna and Astrid aren't home, and the windows are dark. He thinks he might be drunk, but then again, everything feels drunk in dreams, right? He looks over at Cas, who looks good. Really good. He's younger, Dean thinks, more like when they first met. His hair's longer and messier and it looks like he just rolled out of bed or maybe had a really good makeout session or something.   
  
Dean opens his mouth to say something, but then Cas' lips are on his and holy hell that's Cas' tongue. Okay, sure. Fine. Dean remembers Cas being a very good kisser, okay?  
  
Cas is pretty much in Dean's lap at this point, pressing him against the door, the handle digging into his spine but he's not complaining because Castiel Milton is in his lap and has his tongue in his mouth and really, who is he to argue with something this good?  
  
Then Cas grinds his hips down and Dean's suddenly very aware of Cas' cock, and his own, for that matter. Cas groans into the kiss, and Dean thinks he might have, too, but he really can't focus on anything at the present moment. Cas pulls off his mouth, looks at him with what Dean can only describe as bedroom-eyes, and then he's reaching over him to open the door and get them out of the car (because Cas knows, even in his dream, there's no way in hell they're having sex in his Baby) and into the house.   
  
Cas shoves him up against the door, just like he did that night, and reattaches his mouth to Dean's, fumbling blindly with the keys. By the time he's sorted it out, Dean's hand is already on the doorknob and he opens the door as they not-so-gracefully fall over the threshold and into the house.   
  
Cas is a strong motherfucker when he wants to be, and Dean knows this, but it becomes even more apparent when he pins him against the wall twice going up the stairs. He doesn't know what happens to his shirt, or his belt, or his left sock, but he knows that he's halfway naked by the time Cas closes the door to his bedroom behind him, and Cas isn't too far behind.   
  
And then Dean's on his back, Cas, just in boxers (what happened to his pants? Who cares?) straddling his hips, working his jeans open. Cas comes back up, presses his mouth against Dean's, and Dean's mind nearly short-circuits when Cas palms his cock through his underwear, teasing him.   
  
"Cas, c'mon --" but it breaks off and becomes a gasp as Cas wraps his hand around his erection. He jerks him slow and teasing. "Christ, what are you -- just, god, Cas." Cas hums along, lets go of Dean to pull his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement, and then sheds his own.   
  
What happens next is fuzzy, maybe because there's some small part of Dean's consciousness that's going, "uh, dude, that's your best friend," or maybe because there's a small break in Dean's memory that goes from totally-awesome-but-totally-teasing handjob right to the fucking, or maybe both. This is the part of the dream that isn't always the same.   
  
This time, though, Dean hates his subconscious.  
  
Cas flips them over and spreads his legs so he's straddling Dean again, and Dean feels his cock brush against his own. Cas arches his hips up, searching, desperate, for friction and who is Dean to deny him that?  
So they're rutting against each other, ass-naked, in Cas' bed, and Dean could care less about penetrative (ugh that's so unsexy) sex at the moment because really, Cas is sweaty and whimpering against his mouth and his cock just caught the crease on the inside of his thigh and if this is what being with Castiel means then he'll take it, for the rest of his goddamn life.   
  
Cas is just reaching for the lube when he wakes up.   
  
***  
  
Dean stumbles across the hall to the bathroom, blinking against the light. He grabs a wad of tissues and cleans himself up, resigning himself to laundry duty tomorrow. He looks at himself in the mirror, half-blinded by the light. He looks…fucked. And not just in the sexy way.  
  
"The hell are you doing?" he mutters to his reflection, and treads back to his room where he drops the tissues in his own wastebasket (there's no way in hell he's leaving that in the bathroom for Astrid or Cas to find).   
  
"Cas is your friend," he tells himself, which is stupid, because that's what he tells himself every time he has that stupid dream. He rolls over, clutches his blankets closer, and wills himself not to dream of Cas.  
  
He dreams of blue eyes, smiles he hasn't seen -- for various reasons -- in weeks, and a life so different from Lawrence, Kansas.


	6. Five

Ellen Harvelle is more than qualified to deal with grieving families. She's seen it all, even done it herself with the death of her husband, leaving her with a little girl who'd never see her Daddy again, but this is a new one.  
  
Castiel Milton, on the phone, sounded cautious and stiff, formal, even-- too formal-- to be scheduling a session with her. He said he'd like to schedule a session for his niece, Astrid, and a joint session for him and someone called Dean Winchester. The details of how they were related were sketchy, and Castiel seemed not to know how to explain it.   
  
There are four people in her waiting room on the day that the Miltons plus Winchester are scheduled to meet with her for the first time. She calls in Astrid first, as per Castiel's request. She looks a little scared, but one of the three men with her -- He's wearing a leather jacket and he doesn't look the type to be good with kids. But damn if Astrid's eyes don't light up when he talks to her -- takes her hand and leads her up.  
  
"Ellen's gonna help us out, 'Strid. She's a friend of Auntie Jess's, so she's not scary, I promise," He shoots Ellen a grin, the kind that's probably gotten him away with murder. "Uncle Sammy's gonna take you for ice cream when you're done, remember?" She nods, turning her gaze -- bright blue, almost too blue to be real -- on Ellen.  
  
"Hey, sweetie," she smiles. She's seen this kind of kid a million times. She's scared, of course: it's a new situation, and that's all her world's been since the death of her mother, and if she turns her back, will they still be there? "You wanna come with me? Do you like to draw?"  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean and Cas are not patient in the waiting room.**  
  
"What do you think they're doing?"  
  
"Drawing pictures," Dean answers, not looking up. Cas stares at him, but Dean keeps going. "Ellen asked her if she liked drawing, and drawing's a therapy thing, right? She's probably having 'Strid draw pictures of what's on her mind or something."  
  
"Art therapy's been proven to work better with children than conventional psychotherapy," Dean cocks an eyebrow at Sam. "It's true!"  
  
"Sure, Sammy," They lapse into silence. Cas turns through old Newsweek magazines with a vengeance. Dean texts Mary back to let her know that yes, they're at Ellen's and yes, he'll call with an update as soon as he can. He wonders for a brief moment if his father knows, but Mary talks about everything to him so probably, yes.   
  
 **Fact: Dean's relationship with his father is too complicated for him to even begin to want to explain it to anyone.**  
  
When the door opens again, Ellen is leading Astrid out, holding a few sheets of paper. She smiles at them, and tells Astrid, "I'll see you next time. Have fun with Uncle Sammy." Astrid honest-to-god smiles and half-runs for Sam and grabs his hand.   
"See you," Dean says as Sam allows himself to be pulled toward the door. Sam makes a noise of acknowledgement and the door closes behind them.  
  
"Castiel Milton and Dean Winchester. Why don't we take this to my office?" she says, gentle smile in place. Cas and Dean follow her into her office.  
  
There's an area in one side with couches and old photographs (some of Ellen, some of any combination of Ellen and who Dean assumes to be her husband and daughter) and degrees on the walls and a small table with a box of crayons out on it. On the other, there's a desk (organized, a few picture frames propped up on it) with two chairs in front of it.   
  
"Why don't we sit on the couch? It's much more comfortable, and I hate that desk," Ellen says, taking up residence in an armchair that sits facing the door. Cas sits on the couch, on the end closer to the door, and Dean sits next to him.  
  
"So, before we start, why don't we just run through everything one more time? Astrid already gave me her view of the situation, but I like to hear what the Parents-Slash-Guardians are thinking." She looks at them, expectantly, Astrid's drawings resting on her lap. Dean and Cas look at each other.  
  
"Anna was the only sibling who was closest to me," Cas starts. "Aside from our older brother, but he lives in Maine." Ellen nods. "They weren't really happy with our decisions for college."  
  
"Moving to New York?"  
  
"Not going into something -- smart. At least, what they viewed as smart." She nods again, and looks at Dean.  
  
"She was like my sister," He settles on, because that's the only thing that can most accurately describe their relationship. "Our mom-away-from-mom, if you will." Ellen smiles at that.   
  
"Now, Dean, you're not blood-related to Castiel or Astrid."  
  
"No, I'm their roommate," Ellen raises an eyebrow. "I've been living with them since Astrid was born."  
  
"Did you go to school with them, or --"  
  
"No, I met them, two years before, running an errand for my cousin. We kept in touch and me and my brother, Sam, needed a place to crash when he was college touring that winter." Ellen nods, looking between them.  
  
"And you're both Astrid's legal guardians?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It was only supposed to be him," Dean says, pointing a thumb at Cas. " But Anna made up a second will behind her lawyer's back and added me. And didn't tell us." Ellen's eyes tightened for a second, calculating his expression in place, but then relaxed.  
  
"Let's talk about Astrid," she says, picking up the pictures in her lap and spreading them out on the coffee table in front of them. They're different colored sheets of construction paper, and they're all drawn in crayon in Astrid's half-scribbled way. "They're very well-drawn for a six-year-old."  
  
"She used to hang out with Anna's costume designers," Dean murmurs, looking over them. He looks up. "Anna was a director for a theatre in the Village." Ellen nods. "Guess she picked up on some stuff."   
  
"So this first picture, she told me, is her mom," Ellen says, tapping the drawing closest to her, on green paper. There are two stick figures, one with long, fire-engine-red hair, and the other with a mess of almost-black hair.   
  
"And the other one is -- Cas?" Dean guesses. Ellen smiles. Cas frowns slightly, leaning in to get a better look.  
  
"We have a picture, like this, at home," he says. Dean looks at him. "The one of us at the beach. It was that summer you stayed with us. I believe Sam took it, we went to the Hampton's to visit Gabriel." Dean leans in, too, trying to place it with the picture that rests on the mantle of the fireplace. There are darker green scribbles jumping up from a tan line (the sand?) that Dean supposes could be those plants, and the brown lines behind them could be the rails.   
  
"Was Astrid there?"  
  
"No, she wasn't born until the following summer," Cas answers. "But it's Anna's favorite picture of that summer." Ellen nods, shuffling it under another drawing on light pink paper.  
  
"This is her family," Ellen says. There are six people in this drawing. One is easily twice the height of the others and Dean has to laugh.  
  
"Well, that's Sammy," he says, tapping it. Cas smiles.  
  
"Her uncle, Astrid said. She told me he was waiting with you?"  
  
"He's Dean's brother. He lived with us when they first moved to New York," Cas says. Ellen nods again.   
  
"Jess is there -- is she wearing a veil?"  
  
"Dean, that's her hair." Cas looks at Ellen. "Sam's girlfriend. Auntie Jess." He looks at the two figures in the middle, the two smallest ones. "That's Anna." He taps a redheaded figure holding the very smallest figure's hand. "And that's Astrid."  
  
"Yes," Ellen said.   
  
"Dude, is that -- me and you?" Dean tilts his head, leaning over the drawing.   
  
Astrid drew them holding hands, too.  
  
"Before we discuss this drawing, I'd just like to know if you two are currently --"  
  
"No!" they say together, insistent and maybe a little too immediate. They look at each other. Cas continues, "No, we're not."  
  
"But you were," she says, a smile starting, looking between them. Cas looks at the ground and Dean feels his ears getting hot. "Was Astrid in the picture at that point?"  
  
"She was too young. It was a one-time thing. Nothing -- I mean, nothing really changed, after that," Dean says.   
  
 **Fact: This is what he told himself every day that summer. He still tells himself that every time he feels something for Cas that isn't best-friend-like. He tells himself that a lot.**  
  
"Uh-huh," Ellen doesn't sound convinced, but she's got a smile on her face, and it kind of reminds Dean of Sam's whenever Dean's phone went off that first year.  
  
***  
  
They make separate appointments with Ellen for the next week, Dean's back-to-back with Astrid's because there's only so much work Cas can miss when he's balls-deep in a future exhibition like he is now.   
  
 **Fact: Dean has never been happier to go to work than he was that afternoon.**  
  
When Dean gets there, Bobby's not in the garage. Rufus tells him he wants him in his office, and that makes Dean nervous. Through the glass in the door, he can see Bobby, talking to a blonde with her back to him. Bobby glances up and waves him in.  
  
"Dean, meet Jo," Bobby says, and the blonde stands up and turns to him. She's pretty: brown eyes and waves of hair that frame her face. She shakes his hand, and smiles at him. "She'll be replacing Jim."   
  
"Jim's gone?"  
  
"Idjit broke his wrist," Bobby mutters. "Show her to her station and for god's sake, focus on the cars, boy."  
  
Dean leads her out of Bobby's office and into the garage. "So, how'd a pretty face like yours end up in a grease trap like this?"  
  
"Dad was a friend of his, way back when," she says, ignoring his attempt to flirt and sticking a thumb in the direction of Bobby's office. "We moved up here a few years back. Hadn't seen him in a while."   
  
He leads her over to Jim's workspace, where the car he'd been working on is still parked, hood popped open. She leans into it, checking out the damage.  
  
"The hell'd he break his wrist doing?"  
  
"You learn pretty quick not to ask questions about people Bobby thinks are too stupid," She raises an eyebrow. "Although, he seems to like you."  
  
"And he doesn't like you?" Dean shrugs.  
  
"He's a sucker for little kids."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Jo will not tolerate your bullshit under any circumstances.**  
  
At first, Dean tries. God, does he try. A charming smile here, a compliment there, a blatant pick-up line that's almost never failed there. Nothing works. He almost talks to Sam and Cas about it but they'd make fun of him for the rest of eternity if he started whining about how a girl doesn't like him. Well, Sam would. Dean doesn't really know what Cas would do.  
  
He brings Astrid in one Saturday morning while Cas is trying desperately to catch up on his sleep. The exhibition is more involved than the others, he claims, and they have him working with an expert, this guy Crowley, who Dean kind of thinks sounds like a tool and Cas doesn't sound too impressed with him, either, but he knows his shit so Castiel  tolerates him.  
  
Astrid sits on the little desk in Dean's space, watching, asking questions about cars that Dean answers without even thinking about it. It's easy, in the garage, because Dean doesn't have to think. He's good at cars, cars are easy. Cars can be fixed, and he knows how.   
  
 **Fact: Dean sometimes wishes people were more like cars.**  
  
Jo comes in around nine and stops when she sees Astrid.  
  
"Oh, hey, Jo," Dean says, nonchalant, like he isn't chattering away with a little kid while he's elbow-deep in the engine.   
"Hi. Who's your friend?"  
  
"I’m Astrid," Astrid says before Dean can say anything. Dean flashes a smile at Jo. "I'm six."  
  
"Well, hi, Astrid. I'm Jo," she says, coming over and shaking her hand. "What are you doing with a grease monkey like Dean?"  
  
"He's in charge of me today ‘Cause Cas didn't get home until late last night and he needs to sleep." Jo nods, and looks over at Dean, who's watching the exchange.  
  
"Cas is her Uncle. We're roommates," Jo raises both eyebrows and has this look on her face like she's trying not to laugh. "What?"  
  
"Dean, you're what, twenty-eight? And you call him a roommate."  
  
"What's wrong with having a roommate? Astrid, pass me that wrench. No, the other one. Yeah, thanks,"  
  
"For all the flirting, Dean Winchester, you certainly didn't seem the type," She smirks at him, turns on her heel, and starts walking. Astrid looks up at Dean, question already forming.  
  
"It's not like that!" he calls after her, maybe a little desperate. All he hears is her laughing.   
  
***  
  
Jo comes in a couple weeks later with a sour look on her face. She doesn't say anything to Dean, not even a "Hello," just storms past him and gets working on the cars. Dean thinks it's weird, but doesn't say anything to her. They're not really friends like that yet. It's only when he hears something clang loudly, followed by a grunt of, "Dammit!" that he really gets concerned.  
  
"Jo? You okay?"  
  
"Fan-fucking-tastic, thanks, Winchester," she grumbles. She crawls out from under the car. "Just peachy."  
  
"Jeez, sorry," he says, putting his hands up in retreat as he turns to walk away.  
  
"You're not the one who should be apologizing," she kicks at a tire.  
  
"Neither is the car," She glares at him for a second, but her gaze drops.  
  
"Got in a fight with my mom this morning. Thinks I'm all depressed."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Probably 'Cause she's a therapist that deals with little kids losing they're parents and it's her life's work to psychoanalyze me at any given moment. She thinks I'm not “expressing my feelings” enough and I'm hiding behind pretenses like working at Bobby's garage is gonna bring my dad back or some shit."  
  
"I'm -- sorry…?"  
  
"'S not your fault, unless you were the asshole in a truck twelve years ago who crashed into my dad's car," She shrugs. He glances at a photo tucked into the corner of her bulletin board -- Jim's not going to make a full recovery and he was getting ready to retire anyway,so Jo's already started her "decorating" -- and notices a very familiar brunette holding who he assumes is Jo.  
  
"Your mom's a therapist?"  
  
 **Fact: It’s through this conversation that Dean realizes he's met the little girl in the photographs in Ellen's office.**  
  
***  
  
"How've you been?"   
  
Dean's sitting across from Ellen, who's got a notepad balanced in her lap. He shrugs, and she almost laughs. "That's not an answer, Dean."  
  
"I've been okay. Picked up an extra shift at the garage this weekend, but I get tomorrow off. Woke up with a six-year-old latched to my arm, but that's a normal occurrence now 'Cause apparently Cas talks in his sleep and that drives Astrid crazy."  
  
"Does she do that often?"  
  
"What, bunk with me?" Ellen nods. "It's pretty even. Apparently, I snore, so she'll go to Cas when that gets unbearable, but I think his talking annoys her more."  
  
"How do you see your relationship with Astrid?" Dean cocks his head to the side. "Like, when someone points to a picture of her at your desk at work, how do you describe her?" He thinks about the photographs on his wall in the garage, between notes he's taken during calls with clients or Sam, or Cas, or Anna, and the first license plates on the Impala, the ones from Kansas. He's got a bunch, all of combinations of the little Brooklyn Winchester/Milton/Moore family unit. There's one of him with a four-year-old Astrid on his back, grinning so hugely her blue eyes are scrunched shut and he's laughing and it looks so domestic you'd want to vomit.  
  
"She's -- well, when she was little, I'd call her my niece," He looks up at Ellen. "'Cause Anna called me and Cas 'Uncle Dean' and 'Uncle Cas,' you know? But then, somewhere along the line, the 'Uncle' piece was dropped, and we didn't really care. She calls Sam 'Uncle Sammy,' and Jess -- that's his girlfriend -- 'Auntie Jess,' but we're Cas and Dean to her, and she's Astrid to us."  
  
"So you wouldn't call her your niece?"  
  
"No, she's not quite that."  
  
"Would you call her your daughter?"  
  
 **Fact: Dean doesn't know how to answer that question.**


	7. Six

 

**Fact: Dean sucks at back-to-school shopping.**

  
It had never really been part of his responsibility. Sure, sometimes he tagged along to Staples or Office Max or whatever and held Sammy's shit for him, but he did a lot of recycling in high school, or Mary bought new stuff for him. He wasn't picky, and besides, he hated school, despite all of his teachers waxing poetic about how smart he was.

  
But now he and Cas have to shop for Astrid, because she's going into first grade and she needs actual supplies instead of, y'know, crayons and markers and shit.

  
Jess, saint that she is ("Seriously, Sammy, if you don't marry her, I will."), printed out the list from the school website and handed it to Dean about three weeks before school starts. Sam's gearing up for what will be his final year of law school, and then he has the bar test thing, and will actually be a lawyer, and Jess is working at that publishing company so she's a little tied up and can't really help with school supplies but promised to help with the uniform ("Why does she need a uniform?" "It's a nice school, Dean, they wear uniforms.").

  
Astrid spends about five minutes debating between a folder with unicorns and a folder with Disney Princesses before choosing one with puppies on it. She only wants green and blue binders, though, and they can't figure out why, until later, when they're talking about it with Jess and Sam, and Jess says, "Those were Anna's favorite colors, right?"

  
***

  
Astrid still doesn't sleep through the night, despite weekly sessions with Ellen. Ellen tells them not to worry about it any more than they already are, because while she's not better, she's not worse, right? She talks to them separately but mentions wanting to meet with them together at the end of September because that'll give her enough time to put together a "report."

  
The school calls about a week and a half before the first day. Cas isn't home, but Dean is. Astrid's playing with that kid Jesse across the street who Dean's not quite sure about but he seems like a nice enough kid.

  
"Hello?"

  
"Hi, this is Rachel, I'm on the admissions team at St. Peter's, and we were just going over the file for Astrid Milton, and I had a few questions for her mother, Anna, is she there?"

  
"Uh, no, Astrid's uncle called back in May to tell you guys, Anna's dead."

  
"Oh. I'm sorry." She sounds flustered and embarrassed. "Well, can I speak to Castiel Milton?"

  
"He's out right now, but I'm Astrid's other guardian, maybe I can answer your questions." Dean tries not to sound like an asshole. She seems nice enough, just not very bright.

  
"Oh, sure, of course. I was just wondering about Astrid's health records because we're missing them, along with a secondary emergency contact. All we have listed is Dean Winchester as Astrid's emergency, on file." Dean grins to himself a little bit, and he can feel his seventeen-year-old self judging him. _Dude, you're twenty-eight, single as fuck, and you're all pleased with yourself because you're the emergency contact of a six-year-old. What the hell happened?_

**Fact: Dean wishes his seventeen-year-old self would shut the fuck up sometimes.**   


  
***

  
Dean ends up calling Jesse's parents, telling them that he has to run and could they please watch Astrid while he's sorting out the paperwork? Jesse's mom is totally smitten with Dean and the entire block knows it, so she says yes and Dean drives over to Astrid's school. He goes into the admissions office and finds Rachel.

  
"So, as Astrid's legal guardian, you can fill these out for me," she says, pushing empty forms toward him. "We're still missing her vaccine records, but that's not a big deal, just have her doctor's office fax them over to us."

"Sure," he says, making a note to ask Cas to call the doctor's office.

  
"If you don't mind me asking," Rachel says, her voice going soft, "What happened to Anna?"

  
"Car accident. End of May," Dean says shortly. "Astrid's taken it kinda hard. We all have."

  
"Are you her father, or --"

  
"Oh, god, no. I live with the Miltons They offered me and my brother a place when he started going to school up here, and they never let me leave." He shrugs, smirking slightly.

  
"Was she young? Anna, I mean."

  
"Astrid was born when she was twenty, so yeah." That's all he says, because he turns to fill them out. He fills himself in, then Cas, as her primary contacts, then Sam and Jess as her emergency contacts. He doesn't know her insurance off the top of his head but he knows Cas does so he'll have Cas fill it out when he gets the vaccine records because Cas is the kind of guy that doesn't trust people to send stuff for him, has to pick it up and get it over himself.

  
***

  
Sam starts his final year one week before Astrid starts first grade. He collapses on the couch Friday night in a very similar fashion that he did at the end of the previous term.

  
"I don't wanna be a lawyer, Dean," he whines as Dean sets a beer down on the end table next to his head, nursing his own. "Why did you let me do this?"

  
"Because you'd been fighting Dad since you could talk and you always liked debate and this is the perfect outlet for you." Sam cracks an eye open to glare at him. "What? It's true."

  
"Dean says you and Grandpa fight all the time," Astrid says, coming in and plopping down on Sam's stomach, and Sam makes an "oof!" noise. "'S why we don't go to visit them a lot."

  
"That's not the only reason, 'Strid," Dean says. "It's also a long drive."

  
"Jesse flies to Australia to visit his family. Why don't we fly to Kansas?"

  
"Because Dean pukes on planes," Sam says before Dean can answer. "Like, a lot. All over everyone."

  
"That was one time! And it was only on your jeans, stop being so dramatic." Sam just flashes him a smile as he lifts Astrid up, sits himself up, and plops her down on his knees again. Jess and Cas are working in the kitchen. Dean's not allowed to help anymore because he eats everything while he cooks.

  
"Speaking of Kansas, Mom wants us to come down for Thanksgiving." Dean groans. "Dean, come on, Mom's mashed potatoes and she promised like seven kinds of pie, it'll be fun."

  
"Dude, all it'll be is her asking if I've met anyone nice, and how therapy's going, and all this other shit I don't want to talk about -- I'm putting a dollar in the jar right now, Astrid -- and how so-and-so's daughter is free on Saturday night and I just don't wanna date anyone right now." Sam waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Shut up. I know, I know," he says before Astrid can tell him. "Another dollar."

  
**Fact: the Mean Words jar is going to make Dean go broke one of these days.**   


  
"Hey, Asteroid, go see if Auntie Jess and Cas are almost ready with dinner?" Sam says. Astrid hops off his lap and toddled into the kitchen. Dean raises an eyebrow.

  
"What's up?"

  
"Remember back -- before Anna -- when I said I was thinking about proposing?"

  
"Yeah, why? D'you find the ring or something?"

  
"Not exactly, but I was thinking maybe around Christmas? Could you help me go ring shopping on a weekend or something?"

  
Something pangs in Dean's chest. Sam, baby brother Sammy with the chubby cheeks and the sudden growth spurt and the arguments with Dad and the beliefs that Dean somehow implanted in him despite their father's conservative-Christian views, is in love. Like, endgame love, the kind of love Dean can't even begin to fathom even though he grew up watching his parents in that kind of love. He's found The One and he's so serious about her and if she could say no, if she did, Sam would be destroyed, have his soul ripped out and shoved back down his throat in pieces, but she won't because she's just as in love with him and Dean saw it the second she was properly introduced to him as Sam's girlfriend.

  
"Of course, man."

  
***

  
Astrid asks Dean and Cas to take her to the first day of school a few days before. Cas manages to reschedule an appointment with Crowley, and Dean clears it with Bobby, who, unlike the Metropolitan Museum of Art, has been so, so understanding all summer and genuinely didn't mind having a six-year-old around.

  
On the first day of school, Sam and Jess send texts to Dean with giant smiley faces and well wishes for Astrid. Gabe texts Cas, telling him to tell Astrid good luck and to punch the mean kids and not to let the boys kiss her, but they don't actually tell her that. Astrid makes Dean set her an alarm to wake her up at seven so she can get ready by herself. Dean and Cas wake up before her, so Dean can shower in peace and Cas can go downstairs and make breakfast.

  
**Fact: on Astrid's first day of kindergarten, Anna woke up early, made Dean and Cas get up early with**   


**her, and they made pancakes for breakfast. Anna thought it would be a good tradition to have, since**

**the first day of school for the Miltons had always been chaotic and different every year, and she was**

**determined not to let Astrid grow up like she had.**

  
It hits Dean as he's making coffee for him and Cas how domestic this all is, and his seventeen-year-old self is staring at him in his mind's eye, again, asking what the hell happened, but in a different way. He feels like seventeen-year-old him would've been in awe of that morning.  _This is his life?_  


  
But then the present, twenty-eight-year-old Dean smacks his teenager self upside the head. Cas is your best friend and the only reason you two are so domestic is because you have a kid to take care of. Besides, it's always been your job to make coffee, since when does that mean you're in love with someone, dipshit?

  
"Dean, is the coffee machine broken?" He looks up. Cas is side-eyeing him from the stove. "You keep glaring at it."

  
Astrid skips down the stairs in her new uniform -- plaid jumper with a white, short-sleeved, collared shirt, Mary Janes (unbuckled), and knee socks (uneven). The zipper in the back of her jumper's undone and her hair is everywhere, but Dean wishes he had his phone so he could take a picture.

  
"Astrid, what on earth -- come here," Cas says, sounding slightly amused but mostly horrified by his niece. He zips her into the jumper and then looks at her hair, frowning. "Did you brush this?"

  
"Uh-huh, a hundred times!" She nods her head dramatically. Cas looks doubtful, but Dean just shrugs.

  
"'Strid, you got a hair tie or a scrunchie or something?"

  
**Fact: Dean never thought he'd say the word "scrunchie" in his life. Ever.**   


  
She disappears for a moment, but then comes back with a little makeup-bag-type thing filled with hair accessories. She presents it to him, and then looks at him, head tilted to the side like Cas does and Anna did, waiting.

  
"Okay, let's see," Dean says, opening it. He can feel Cas staring at him and if Sam was here, he'd be laughing his ass off right about now. But damn it, Astrid's hair is a mess and Cas looks ready to cut it all off himself and the pancakes are going to burn if he's not careful. "Cas, I got it."

  
"I'm sure," he says, finally turning back to the frying pan. Dean ignores how doubtful he sounds, and picks through the various elastics and scrunchies and barrettes and whatever the hell that twisty thing is until he digs out two small elastics. Astrid hands him her hairbrush and turns around.

  
Somehow, Dean manages to get two mostly-even pigtails tied. They sit a little higher up than he thinks is good for them but Astrid looks so fucking cute he doesn't want to mess with it. Cas doesn't burn the pancakes (which are seriously the fluffiest things Dean's ever had), and he smiles when he sees it, and insists on taking a picture of her on the stairs leading to the front door before they go.

  
Astrid chatters from the backseat of the Impala the entire ten minutes of the drive, but falls silent as soon as Dean parks the car. She's so little, Dean realizes, looking at her with her Ariel backpack slung over both shoulders and barely twice the height of the tires on his car. She catches their hands as they walk her in to school and doesn't let go until they're at the door to her classroom.

  
"Hey, so Mrs. Turner's gonna take you home today, okay? You're gonna play with Jesse and Uncle Sam and Auntie Jess are gonna come over for dinner, so you gotta have a lot to tell them," Cas says, bending down to get to her level. Astrid nods. "Have fun. Love you." He kisses her forehead and she hugs his shoulders for a moment before turning and hugging Dean around his legs. He bends a little to kiss the top of her head -- she smells like Anna's shampoo, he notices -- and gently detaches her from him and pushes her toward the classroom.

  
***

  
**Fact: Dean half-expects the school to call him that first day.**   


  
He keeps his cell phone on him all day instead of in the Impala. He knows it's probably bad form or whatever but he worries, and Cas is in the city and by the time he gets to the school, Dean could have gotten Astrid, taken her for ice cream, and gotten her to take a nap.

  
It doesn't ring.

  
He leaves the garage at five and has Astrid home and talking, at length, about how much better first grade is than kindergarten, by five-fifteen and he's already texting Cas about dinner, asking him what he's supposed to do with the vegetables in the fridge and whether or not he should turn the oven on now or when Jess and Sam get there.

  
"And there's no more naptime and it's the bestest thing ever!" she finishes, swinging her legs from her perch on the counter that they both know she's not supposed to be sitting on but Dean lets her anyway because he's a total pushover.

  
"No more naptime, huh? Aren't you tired?"

  
"No way! Naptime's boring. Oh! And there's a girl in my class who looks like Ruby." Dean drops the knife he's using to chop carrots.

  
"What?"

  
"Well, Ruby before her hair turned brown and got all gross," Astrid says, chewing on a baby carrot. "She's blonde and she's missing her front teeth and she's not nice."

  
"Was she mean to you?"

  
"No, she was mean to Jesse," she says matter-of-factly, and Jesus, it's only the first day, there are already kids being mean to each other? "But Jesse told the teacher so Lillith had a time-out." The front door opens and then closes. "Is that Cas?" She hops down and runs into the front. He follows her and stops when he sees Jessica cooing over Astrid's hair.

  
"Did Cas do this?" she's asking, but Astrid's already shaking her head.

  
"No, Dean did." Jess looks up at him and Dean smirks, shrugs, very blasé. She bites her lip to keep from laughing.

  
"Well, Dean, nice job."

  
"Thanks. Teach me to do hair," he whispers as Astrid keeps talking about first grade to Jess. She laughs, nods, and lets herself get pulled over to Astrid's backpack to look at what she did today.

  
***

  
Dinner is as uneventful as it could be: Astrid keeps a steady stream of commentary about first grade going throughout and really only stops talking when Cas puts a slice of cherry pie in front of her. Sam hates lectures but all his afternoon classes were today were lectures and he's burned out and he thinks he might have carpal tunnel and wonders, out loud, if he could sue them for the medical expenses behind that, once he's graduated.

  
The weeks start passing quickly. Astrid doesn't sleep through the night, but she doesn't scream anymore, either, and only wakes up Dean or Cas when she sneaks into their rooms. Cas gets progressively more pissed with the Met about the angels exhibit ("they're doing it wrong!") but really only complains to Dean about it. Dean picks up an extra shift here and there on weekends and gets over flirting with Jo, partially because he's talking to her mom about his commitment, life, and daddy issues every week, and it turns out she's actually cool and Astrid likes her, too.

  
But, of course, the call finally comes.

  
He started keeping his phone in the pocket of his coveralls just as insurance for that first day, but then it started living there. It hasn't rung yet, hasn't had a reason to ring, so when "Eye of the Tiger" starts blasting from his pocket, he's not expecting it and nearly clocks himself with a wrench.

  
"Hello?" he says, wriggling his way out from under the car to take the call properly. He sees Jo lean around the barrier between their workspaces, one eyebrow raised.

  
"Is this Dean Winchester?"

  
"Yeah." He grabs a rag and wipes the grease off his hand. "Who's calling?"

  
"This is Charlie Bradbury, I'm the school nurse at St. Peter's, and Astrid seems to have come down with a bug and someone needs to come and get her. You're listed as her primary guardian, but if there's someone else I should call --"

  
"No, I'll be right there," Dean says. "Thanks." He hangs up, and grabs his keys off the hook. Jo fixes him with a look as he goes to leave.

  
"What happened?"

  
"Astrid's sick. Where's Bobby?"

  
"I'll tell him, don't worry about it," Jo says, making a shooing motion with her hands, one of which is holding a wrench. "Go."

  
***

  
**Fact: Astrid most definitely did not have a bug when he got there.**   


  
She is sitting on a chair against the wall of the nurse's office, staring at a poster on the other wall. The nurse, Charlie, has posters of cult favorites all over her office, and a few bobbleheads scattered throughout. Dean doesn't say anything to Astrid until they're in the car, heading home.

  
"So, what happened?" he asks, looking at her in the rearview. "You're not sick, kiddo, I'm not that stupid."

  
"Not stupid," she mumbles, not looking at him.

  
"You gonna tell me?" No response. "Come on, 'Strid, I'm not a mind-reader."

  
But she doesn't say anything. In fact, she stays silent all the way home, and when they get home, she goes upstairs into her room, closes the door, and doesn't come out even when Cas gets home early because Dean called him and told him about what happened.

  
"Do we still want to go out for dinner?" he asks when they're in the kitchen, leaned up against the counters, listening to the silence that radiates from Astrid's bedroom. "If she's sulking like this --"

  
"No, we should. Maybe she'll talk then or something."

  
Dean goes upstairs, gets Astrid to come out of her room, and tells her about their plans for dinner. She seems to like it, because she follows him down the stairs and puts on her Mary Janes again. She still hasn't changed out of her school uniform.

  
She still doesn't talk, and Dean's starting to wonder if maybe she's gone mute or something and they need to call, like, his mom or Ellen or something, when she asks a question while they're waiting for their food.

  
"Do I have a dad?" They both stare at her. She looks back at them, blue eyes wide and innocent.

  
"What?" Dean asks, because he's not entirely sure he heard right.

  
"Lillith was saying I'm an orphan, today at school, cuz I don't have a dad. She said that you guys were only keeping me cuz that's what Mommy wanted, and that I don't have any real family, but that's not true, because Uncle Gabe was Mommy's brother and Cas is, too, and so's Uncle Michael and Uncle Raphael and Uncle Uriel and Uncle Luci but we don't talk to him, and --"

  
"Whoa, Astrid," Cas interrupts her. "Yes, you've got a lot of uncles. But what about me and Dean keeping you?"

  
"Cuz that's what Mommy wanted and you don't get a choice." She says it more to the table than to them.

  
"First of all, there's always a choice, Astrid," Dean says. "You never have to do something. You choose to do it."

  
"Your mom chose us to be your guardians, when you were really little, in case anything happened to her. But it has to work both ways. We have to choose to be your guardians, too," Cas tells her. "And if we couldn't, then Grandma and Grandpa would be your guardians." He leaves out the part where she forgot to tell them, but that's not important.

  
"But what about my dad? You gotta have a mom and a dad to have a baby, right?"

  
"You also have to be married," Dean mutters, sarcastically. Cas elbows him.

  
"Your dad -- he's not really your dad, sweetheart," Cas says gently. "He left before your mom found out she was having a baby. He never knew about you, so he can't be your dad."

  
"He's not important," Dean says. "He made that decision for us a long time ago. So don't worry about him, okay?" Cas looks at him, then at Astrid.

  
"So, who's this Lillith and why is she being mean to you?"


	8. Seven

**Fact: Towards the end of September, Ellen calls Dean and Cas in together to talk.**  
  
They schedule it after Sam's done with classes for the day so he can watch Astrid  for them. Ellen won't tell them what she wants to talk about, but Dean figures it'll be about how Astrid's adjusting and what they need to do next and Kumbaya and shit.  
  
When he gets there, though, Ellen sits them down at her desk, which is something they've never done before, ever. She's got a file in front of her and she's got her serious face on, one that he's seen Jo wear. Cas is already there in his stupid trench coat that looks like it's been put through the ringer about five times but he refuses to replace it. It had actually been a topic of argument between him and Anna, albeit a very unserious, silly argument that almost always ended in one of them laughing.  
  
"Hello, Dean," Ellen says, and motions to the empty chair next to Cas. "Take a seat." He drops down into the chair, gives Cas a quick look. Cas shrugs minutely.  
  
"So, we've been meeting for a month now," she starts, looking between them. "You two, and Astrid, separately. I've come to a few conclusions, that I've run past Astrid, and she agrees with them." They exchange another look. "And I've drawn a few about you two as well. You don't have to agree, but it's how I see it and if it's wrong, feel free to correct me." It goes unsaid that she thinks she's probably right. It also goes unsaid that they think so, too.  
  
"Okay," Cas says. "Astrid?"  
  
"Astrid is going to be fine," she says firmly. "She's grieving, she's coping, it is what it is. The nightmares are winding down, at least a little, am I right?" When they nod, she continues, "She's a little girl with a very vivid imagination, and this is her process. She'll be fine. However," she fixes them both with a no-bullshit stare, one that Dean knows all too well, "You two are hot messes."  
  
"I-I'm sorry?" Cas says, frowning, tilting his head to the side, almost offended.   
  
"You two live together, raise a kid together, strictly as friends, and as the strangest family unit in New York, and that's saying something. Not only that, but you've both told me you're each other's best friend, and it's been that way since before Astrid was an idea. But you two won't talk to each other. Cas, you think Dean's repressing his feelings, and vice versa." They turn to look at each other. Cas looks…shocked. Dean looks annoyed. "Now, I get it. You lived with Anna for a decent period of time. She was your sister. But pretending like everything's okay -- for your sake, his, Astrid's, Sam's, whoever -- isn't going to solve anything. You two need to talk your shit out." They stare at her. "Now, I understand Astrid asked about her father."  
  
"He isn't in the picture," Cas says shortly. Ellen nods.  
  
"She told me." Dean frowns.  
  
"What else did she say?"  
  
"She doesn't know how to explain her family to people," Ellen says, matter-of-fact. "Her friends all have a mom and a dad. Some of them have step-moms and step-dads, but she doesn't have any of that. She's got you two -- she doesn't even know what to call you -- and Uncle Sammy and Auntie Jess, who, if I'm clear on this, aren't married, correct?"  
  
"That's gonna change within the next year," Cas says.   
  
"What about you?" she asks. They look at each other, then at her.  
  
"What about us?" Dean asks, frowning.  
  
"Six months ago, you were living with your sister and your best friend, or your two best friends. It wasn't gonna be forever, right? You three were gonna fall in love with new people, move out, settle down, the whole thing. Astrid was just your niece. It was simple, really. Now, you two are living with each other and Anna's daughter, raising this kid, and, if I'm being honest, it looks more like Anna's taken an extended vacation and you're just waiting for her to come back," She pauses, waits to see if they have anything to say, and continues: "What are you gonna do about it?"  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean and Cas actively avoid the subject until Astrid is in bed.**  
  
It's an awkward silence downstairs: Sam knew something was up when they picked her up from his apartment, but he didn't say anything. Astrid didn't notice, but that might have been because she had enough to say that they didn't really have to talk to keep the conversation going. They try to watch the game on TV but they're too stiff; it's not comfortable, and for once Dean couldn't give less of a shit about baseball. When it finally becomes too unbearable, he turns off the TV and faces Cas.  
  
"We have to talk about Astrid," he says, trying not to sound as scared shitless as he is.   
  
"Agreed," Cas says, turning to face him. He's got one leg tucked under him, ankle under his knee, and he's got a mug of tea in his hands, half-balanced on his bent leg. Dean's sitting the same way, minus tea, but he doesn't really notice this. "What do you have to say?"  
  
"Well, um -- it's kinda like foster care, right? Like, we can make decisions for her or whatever but legally she's not bound to us in any specific way," Cas nods hesitantly. "So, should one of us, like, adopt her?" Cas' brow furrows.  
  
"I don't follow," Dean scoots a little closer, tries to figure out how to articulate his thought process.   
  
"She was asking about her dad, before, and we can't get him to her, so should one -- or both -- of us ask her if she wants us to be her dad -- s?" He trails the "s" after, almost hopefully. "Because she's in school-school now, she can't just keep calling us her 'guardians' or whatever. She'll have to explain everything then because everyone always looks at the kid with no real parents funny. And it looks weird on papers, too, when you have to explain your relationship to the kid."  
  
"So you're proposing that we become her fathers," he says, as if to clarify.  
  
"I guess, yeah." Cas shakes his head.  
  
"No."  
  
"No? Why the hell not?"  
  
"Dean, if Anna wanted us to be her daughter's fathers, she would've asked us, don't you think?" Dean opens his mouth to argue, but Cas cuts him off, "She always meant for us to be her child's uncles. From the moment Astrid was born we were Uncle Cas and Uncle Dean. If she had wanted one of us to be the father -- which would have been you because as her brother, it would've been odd -- she would've asked us."  
  
"Cas, she basically left Astrid in our hands in her will, and didn't tell us. We were under the impression Astrid was gonna live with my parents, for God's sake! And she wasn't the most subtle person ever. She wanted us to --"  
  
"She wanted to keep Astrid in a familiar environment. She'd been to Kansas, multiple times, she knew that taking Astrid out of Brooklyn wouldn't end well, for anyone! What we're living here, that's familiar. She knows walking to places and going to the garage with you and the museum with me and going to Anna's theatre to see shows. She knows living with Mommy's brother, Cas, and their best friend, Dean, and seeing Uncle Sam and Auntie Jess a lot, and sometimes Uncle Gabe. She'd hate Lawrence, just as much as you and Sam did."  
  
"Cas, why -- why the fuck, actually, are you so dead-set on not adopting Astrid? Would it really change anything about what's going on here? We wake up, we make breakfast, you go to work, I take Astrid to school and then go to the garage, I take her home, you make dinner, she goes to bed. What would change, if she started calling us 'Dad'?"  
  
"Who knows how long we'll be in this situation, Dean! What happens if you meet a pretty woman, fall in love like Sam, get married? What if I meet Mr. Right and we get married? What if one of us moves out?" Something twists at the thought of Mr. Right or The Pretty Woman, but Dean's having a sort-of argument right now and can't focus on that.   
  
"Okay, first of all, I'm just as likely as you to fall for a dude," Dean says, because priorities. "Second, what are you saying, do you not want to? 'Cause, if you don't, just say so, Cas. I won't be offended, but you'll have to explain to 'Strid why she shouldn't call you Dad, either."  
  
"It's not that I don't want -- Dean, it's so much more complicated,"  
  
"Explain it to me, then," Cas looks up, blue eyes piercing through his very soul. He's gotten this look a few times, but never in the context of an argument. His voice almost falters, but Dean's not about to let a pair of blue (like the sky, clear, infinite) eyes get to him. "I'm a mechanic, I'm not dumb. What's so complicated that you can't?"  
  
"I -- Crowley told me about a job offer. A teaching position. They want whoever they hire to start immediately. He doesn't have the -- credentials, I guess, to take the position, but they've heard of me. They contacted me, a couple weeks ago."  
  
"So?"  
  
"It's in California."  
  
Silence.   
  
"I wasn't going to tell you." Dean glares at him.  
  
"You weren't gonna -- so, what, were we just gonna wake up one day and it's me and 'Strid alone in here? How would I begin to explain that to her, huh? She already lost Anna, and we still can't explain that one worth shit. How do I explain that Cas is gone because he's got a better job that means he can't be near us?"  
  
"Dean, it's not like that --"   
  
"Then what is it like, Cas?"  
  
"I was going to think it through before presenting it to either of you. I love working at the museum, and you know that, but a job like this doesn't just fall into someone's lap. It's a smart move to make for someone with my level of degrees and expertise in my field, and you know I've always wanted to teach."  
  
"So is that it, then? 'Cause that's a totally dick move to make if --"  
  
"I don't know what I want, Dean! I want a lot of things that I can't have for a number of reasons, but here's what I know," and now he's in Dean's face just as much as Dean's in his and Dean's forgotten how stubborn Cas is in an argument, how much of a total dick he can be. It's only fair, though, because Dean's always a bigger one. "Anna's gone, and she would've been the first person I talked to. I'm raising a six-year-old who I never in a million years thought I would have any semblance of control over. Furthermore, there is a good offer for me and I don't know if I want it or not and you're not helping me think it through by shouting at me because you've got abandonment and commitment issues you have yet to work through in therapy, which we're all signed up for, because of Anna's death!"  
  
Cas leaves suddenly, goes upstairs, comes back down with one of his gym bags.   
  
"Where are you going?" Dean demands as Cas shrugs into that stupid ratty trench coat that hangs next to the door.   
  
"Sam's. I'll see you later," and with that, Castiel is gone.  
  
***  
  
Dean doesn't move from his spot on the couch as Cas shuts the door -- quietly, there's a sleeping child in the house -- but as soon as he's officially gone he goes upstairs, takes the longest shower in the history of his living there, and curls up in his bed, but doesn't sleep. Astrid wakes up at some point, because he hears her small footsteps, the sound of Cas' door opening, and then his own. He rolls over, looks at her.  
  
"Can't sleep?" he asks. She nods. He tilts his head, motioning for her to come over. She crawls in next to him.   
  
"Where's Cas?"  
  
"He went to Uncle Sam's. They're having a sleepover."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"'Cause they think they're so smart," he tells her as she snuggles into his side, her stuffed bear wedged between them.  
  
"'Cause they went to school for a million years after they graduated. Uncle Sammy's still in school because he's so smart."  
  
"Not you."  
  
"Nope," he says, popping the “p” which always makes her smile.  
  
"How come?"  
  
"I didn't like school. Besides, what I wanted to do, I didn't have to go to school for very long for. I already knew a lot about cars by the time I moved to New York, so I didn't have to go to school like Uncle Sammy."  
  
"But he has to ‘Cause he's gonna be a big lawyer and keep us out of jail."  
  
"You got plans to break the law, kiddo?" She giggles, shakes her head into his ribcage. He smiles a little. "'Strid, do you want a dad?" he asks after a while. He feels her shrug, shoulder going into his armpit.  
  
"You guys said my dad wasn't around."  
  
"Well, no, but a dad. Doesn't have to be your birth dad." She thinks for a moment.   
  
"Maybe. I don't want another mom. Mommy was my mom and she can't be replaced," Dean nods.  
  
"So I gotta get with a dude," he mutters.   
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. It's late. Go to sleep, baby girl."  
  
Dean dreams of blue eyes and a single word he's grown up knowing but fearing to become. When he wakes up, he no longer fears it.


	9. Eight

**Fact: Sam Winchester is smarter than everyone else. Except for Jess.**  
  
When Castiel shows up on his doorstep at nine-thirty on a Friday night, he doesn't really know what to think. All he says is, "Dean and I are arguing," as if that explains everything, which, Sam guesses, it mostly does. But Dean's not the type to throw people out, Sam knows this: he's had arguments with Dean before, bad ones, but they never ended with Sam getting kicked out, of anywhere. They eventually apologize and forgive and forget because Dean's not John Winchester.  
  
So apparently Cas has a job offer in California, a really good one, too, and he doesn't know what to do because he loves working at the Met and he loves everything about the museum (minus Crowley, but, details), but California would boost his career, like, a ton, and he's always wanted to try teaching, blah blah blah, doesn't understand why Dean's so up-in-arms about it, except he does because Dean asked if he wanted to adopt Astrid with him. Of course, he doesn't mention how bizarre that suggestion is because it's not like they're dating or married or whatever, but Sam knows better. Sam's known about the mutual feelings between Cas and Dean since they moved up to New York. That first year, it was so incredibly obvious how in love they were with each other, it was sickening. He and Anna laughed about it behind their backs all the time, left them alone together on purpose, and at one point, seriously considered just pushing them together and hoping their mouths landed on each other. Nothing came of it, though, and whenever Sam tried to ask them, they both denied feelings for the other. As if to prove a point, Dean dated this Lisa chick for like a month, and then Cas went out with Meg Masters, aka the Biggest Bitch Ever (of course, once Ruby came into the picture, that title was passed over to her, but there are still debates between him, Cas, and Dean about who was worse) for a few weeks, which was weird because Cas was so definitely not into girls, or Meg, that it just looked awkward.  
  
Long story short: Dean wants he and Cas to adopt Astrid. On paper, it makes sense: he's pretty much raising her right now -- they both are -- and it's much neater-looking. Sam knows that Dean’s already considering her his daughter -- at least subconsciously, Dean's slow on the self-realization thing -- and a piece of paper wouldn't really change anything, and Cas knows that too (Sam thinks), wants it just as much as Dean (even if he doesn't know it, but again, details). But California is screwing everyone over.  
  
No offense to California. Sam likes California. He almost went to school there. (But that is a different story for a different day.)  
  
Still, it's screwing everyone over.  
  
***  
  
Jess is late getting home, had an office function, but when she arrives, she doesn't say anything about the pull-out couch (her brother's old one-- the one he gave to them when they bought the apartment) being set up, or Cas' bags in the corner, or Cas sitting at their rickety kitchen table that looks more like lawn furniture, mug of tea (he's got two teabags in the mug; apparently it's that sort of night) in his clenched hands. She comes home talking on the phone about Thanksgiving to Mary -- they are going to Kansas, whether Dean likes it or not, but they're debating flying versus letting Dean have his way and driving down. Jess lets Mary go when she sees Cas, and instead of asking what happened, she sits down with him and asks him where Astrid is. He says Dean's got her, he's more than capable of handling her, and Jess just nods, looks up at Sam, a thousand questions on the tips of both of their tongues but they won't ask because it's Cas, and he'll talk when he wants to.  
  
They leave Cas around ten to go to bed. Jess curls up into his side, whispers, "What happened?" and Sam tells her what he knows and what Cas told him. In the mostly-darkness, he can see the crease between her eyes that she gets when she thinks too hard.  
  
"Is he going to take it? The job, in California."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"He can't, though. They need him."  
  
"At least, we know that," he mutters. Jess bats him lightly on the chest. "Well, it's true. They don't know it."  
  
"Well, Astrid definitely needs him." Sam nods into her hair, presses a kiss to the top of her head.  
  
"They'll figure it out."  
  
***  
  
Sam wakes up to his alarm blasting Asia. Jess's hair is everywhere, like it always is, and she rolls over and groans at him to turn it off as he forces himself out of bed and trudges over to the hook on their door with his towel and heads to the bathroom.  
Cas is already up, pull-out couch's bed made, and he's making coffee. He nods at Sam, who can barely form an articulate sentence at the moment, but by the time he's showered, dressed, and in the kitchen putting his textbooks together, he's fully awake and filling a travel mug with coffee.  
  
"Do you need to stay here tonight, too?" Jess asks as she moves around them easily, getting her breakfast together.  
  
"I'll call you," is all he says, and Jess nods.  
  
"Y'know, he'll probably be okay to talk to tonight," Sam says in a low voice to him. Cas doesn't reply.  
  
On his way out, Sam calls Dean. He's probably dropping off Astrid around now, and should have his phone.  
  
"What, Sammy?"  
  
"Good morning to you, too, starshine," Sam says sarcastically. "Have a good night?"  
  
"Shut up, will you?" He hears someone squeal, loudly, and Dean answering, "I know, I know, I'll put a dollar in the jar tonight, cool your jets, kiddo."  
  
"So I had a late-night guest last night."  
  
"I know, he told me."  
  
"And he told me," Sam says.  
  
"Told you what?"  
  
"California and the adoption papers and the argument.”  
  
"No need to sound so smug, it's not like that."  
  
"So what is it like?"  
  
"He wasn't even planning on telling us about Cali. So what, were we just gonna wake up one day and he'd be all, 'Oh, by the way, see you never'? And he didn't wanna hear about the other thing, thought it'd go against Anna's wishes if one of us did it," Sam smirks. He knows perfectly well that when Anna left Astrid in their capable hands in her will, she was pretty much holding up Dean and Cas voodoo dolls and saying, "now, KISS!" but he can't really say that to Dean because he'd probably drive off the road and vehemently deny it.  
  
"Dean, if you want to so bad, you do it!"  
  
"I wanna talk to Ellen about it first," he says, and Sam rolls his eyes, but Dean keeps talking. "And Mom and Dad, and Gabriel, and maybe the other siblings, too --"  
  
"Don't they hate your guts?"  
  
 **Fact: Sam knows they totally hate the Winchesters.**  
  
"They've met her a grand total of three times, I get priority over them." There's a rustling on the other end; he hears a muffled, "see you later" and the sound of someone kissing a cheek, and then Dean's back. "Sorry, Astrid was getting out."  
  
"You know, ten years ago, when I was picturing us at this point in time, you weren't driving a six-year-old to school every day," Sam says, feeling a little nostalgic about life in Kansas.  
  
"Where was I? Jail?"  
  
"No, you were…at Mom and Dad's."  
  
"Jail, then."  
  
"It's not that bad, Dean. By the way, Jess and Mom were talking last night."  
  
"Are we flying?"  
  
"Mom said we can drive if you promise to let one of us drive, too."  
  
"Who said we were taking my car?"  
  
"Dean, would you like to road-trip to Kansas in Jess' and my car?"  
  
"Hell no."  
  
"Well, then, we're taking your car. Mom says to let us drive."  
  
"Don't you think it's kinda sad that  _Mom_ has to approve of our plans?"  
  
"It could be worse. We could have to ask  _Dad_."  
  
***  
  
Sam goes to his classes and gets a text just before his eleven-fifteen class from Cas asking if he wants to meet for lunch, his treat. Sam, upon reading this, realizes that he hasn't even talked to Cas about Thanksgiving yet. It's become a sort of tradition that they do Thanksgiving together, whether it's at the Milton/Winchester household or in Kansas (that was always an argument between Anna and Mary up until October, but now it looks like Jess has taken the helm of that discussion. Jess rocks). He wonders if he'll even want to go. Then again, he and Dean have been trying to keep as many aspects of Astrid's like normal since Anna died. Either way, he has to talk to him about that.  
  
***  
  
Cas takes him to Le Pain Quotidien, which Sam is very skeptical of at first but soon realizes it's just like Au Bon Pain, which Jess likes. He's wary of French names and food being combined, because of the Great Fois Gras Incident of 2006, but it's got "bread" in the title, so that has to be good, right?  
  
They sit out on the steps of the Met and eat their lunch. Sam asks about Thanksgiving and Cas shrugs. "If Mary and John want me there, I'll go."  
  
"Dude, you're practically family, you're raising a kid with my brother, and Mom will actually fly up here and drag you back by the ear if you don't go." Cas smiles.  
  
"Your mother is very persuasive."  
  
"She's nuts."  
  
"She loves her sons," he corrects, fixing him with that look that Dean's described as, "I respect your opinion, but you're so wrong".  
  
"So you going home?" Sam asks, hears how totally insensitive that sounds, and tries to rephrase: "I mean, Jess and I are totally cool with you staying with us if you need to, but I know from experience it's better just to have the terrible conversation with Dean rather than let it boil over into something bigger than it already is, and you guys have 'Strid, too, and Dean can't really cook, so --"  
  
"Sam, deep breath," Cas says, amused.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"It's alright." He chews on a piece of lettuce, thoughtful for a moment. "Dean can cook just fine, he just chooses not to."  
  
"Did he tell you that?"  
  
"I've seen him fend for himself, he does alright."  
  
"So you're not going home, then."  
  
"Not tonight," He looks up, brow furrowed. It's his look of concentration and frustration and any other stressful emotion Sam can think of. "Sam, I don't have answers for his questions. Maybe that makes me a failure as a co-guardian or a friend, or whatever, but I don't. I don't know what I want, I just know what's in front of me. It's like -- you know, when we do Thanksgiving at your parents' house, and Dean's sitting at the table for dessert and he looks like his head's about to explode because your mother just set out four different kinds of pie at once, and he wants them all?" Sam snorts, nods. Cas smiles, just for a second. "It's like that. Except Mary can't give me all four kinds on one plate at once."  
  
 **Fact: That's probably the best analogy Sam's ever heard.**  
  
***  
  
Sam goes to see Dean and Astrid after school, just to hang out because that's normal. But it's not normal to have Dean's best friend and usual roommate living on your couch because there's trouble in Milton/Winchester paradise and they don't want it around a certain motherless six-year-old.  
  
Screw it. He hasn't seen Astrid in a while.  
  
He texts Dean to ask him if he can come over, and finds out that Dean's still working so he goes across the street to the Turners and rings the bell. Mrs. Turner is a blonde woman, maybe ten years older than him, and she looks confused until he introduces himself as Dean's brother, Sam. It takes him maybe ten seconds after that to figure out that this woman is totally in love with his brother, which he files away for future teasing purposes.  
  
Astrid all but jumps on him when she sees him and she talks about six miles a minute once he's got her things together and they're walking across the street back to her brownstone. She's chattering away about someone named Lilith who apparently isn't nice to her or her friends and Jesse who she was just playing with and Cas wasn't home this morning so Dean made breakfast and he spilled the milk everywhere and swore a lot so he had to put a lot of money in the Mean Words Jar.  
  
Sam goes through the refrigerator since he knows Dean probably hasn't thought far enough ahead to make plans for dinner and he can cook -- sort of. Astrid sits at the kitchen table, talking about what she's learned in first grade, and all about writing, and how next year she'll learn cursive, which she sounds so excited about that he can't bring himself to tell her it's a useless skill.  
Dean comes home about a half an hour after them, and all but runs to the kitchen but stops short when he sees Sam and Astrid.  
  
 **Fact: Sam knows he was expecting Cas.**  
  
"Hey," Sam says. "I made chili."  
  
***  
  
Sam puts Astrid to bed right after dinner. Astrid begged and Dean looked like he needed some peace and quiet for a little while. He reads Harry Potter to her -- it's normally Cas' job, but Uncle Sammy knows how to read, too, dammit -- and when he goes back downstairs, Dean's cleaned up the kitchen and is slouched in front of the TV.  
  
"So," Sam says, plopping down next to him.  
  
"Don't you have homework, college boy?"  
  
"It's Friday, Dean."  
  
"Oh."  
  
They fall silent.  
  
"Cas says he's coming to Thanksgiving.”  
  
"Fantastic."  
  
"Dean --"  
  
"I'm fine, Sammy."  
  
"Just listen? Please?" He doesn't get a response, so he keeps going. "He genuinely has no idea what he wants. He wanted to think about it before telling you and he didn't want you to find out the way you did. He cares about you and Astrid a lot and he's not about to just up and abandon you guys because of a job in California."  
  
"But he's still thinking about it." Sam looks at him. "He's thinking about it, Sammy. He wants that job. And he should, it's a great step, and he'd be a great teacher."  
  
"He doesn't know what to do, Dean. He's thinking about everything. You, Astrid, the Met, Gabe, maybe even me and Jess. We're all here, and it's not like he's on speaking terms with a lot of his family." Dean doesn't reply. "California, it'd be great. But he'd have to start over, and Cas isn't exactly a people person." Dean almost laughs and Sam counts it as a win.  
  
***  
  
He leaves soon after that because it's getting late and Dean's got to work tomorrow morning. Sam promises to send Cas home soon because he was right this morning, Dean's going off the walls about everything.  
  
Jess and Cas are still up, watching crappy TV while sprawled out on the pull-out with steaming mugs in front of them. Sam can't even be bothered to be jealous of it, it's Cas, for God's sake. He's in love with Sam's brother, and has next to no interest in boobs whatsoever.  
  
 **Fact: Their family unit is fucking weird, if you think about it.**  
  
"Hey, babe," Jess says as Sam squeezes in on the corner next to her. "How're Dean and Astrid?"  
  
"They're good. Astrid never stops talking."  
  
"Her mother was like that," Cas says, eyes not leaving the screen. "Anna always had something to say when she was that age. Our brothers couldn't stand it."  
  
"It's the age," Jess says. "My brother's kids are around her age and they never stop talking, either."  
  
"Dean's working tomorrow morning," Sam tells Cas. Cas looks over at him and nods. "I don't think he's gonna wanna take Astrid in early."  
  
"He does it often," He sounds confused. Sam doesn't blame him. Astrid enjoys waking up early on Saturday mornings and going to the garage with Dean.  
  
"Cas, what he's trying to say is you should talk to Dean about everything soon," Jess says. "You talk to each other every day. The only time it ever happened was -- you should talk to him." Cas exhales through his nose, closes his eyes, and nods.  
  
"I'll talk to him tomorrow. It's too late for me to go now without waking Astrid," His tone is final, like the word of God. Jess smiles, nods, and plants a kiss on his cheek before getting up, dropping her mug in the kitchen sink, and going into the bedroom.  
  
"That…was easy."  
  
"She's been working me since I got back, Sam," Cas says, looking down at his mug, almost amused. "She doesn't like it when Dean and I argue, I suppose."  
  
 **Fact: Neither Jess nor Sam like it when Cas and Dean argue, because it's so painfully obvious that they're two sentences away from confessing their love but never do.**


	10. Nine

_Castiel leans down to barely press his lips against his. Dean groans at the contact. Cas is strong -- he's already managed to pick him up and hold him up against a wall, for fuck's sake. He's got both hands on Dean's shoulders, keeping him pinned to the mattress.  
  
He kneels over Dean's hips, barely straddling him, sits up, reaches over for the bottle on the nightstand. Dean's got his hands on Cas' hips, but Cas shakes him off, moving to kneel between his legs now, instead, pushing Dean's knees up and apart. He kiss-bites down the inside of Dean's thigh, breath ghosting over his cock and going to the other thigh as a slicked-up finger just brushes against his hole…_  
  
***  
Dean wakes up swearing to himself. He reaches over for the box of tissues to clean himself up and gets out of bed to throw them out, thanking any deity he's ever heard of, regardless whether or not he believes in them -- he doesn't -- that Astrid stayed in her own bed.  
  
Wait a second.  
  
He opens his door, sticks his head into the hallway. Astrid's door is open. He crosses the hall and steps into her room. It's four in the morning, and October, but the little light streaming in her window fall on the very unmade and empty bed against the wall, shadows making it look messier and deeper. He leaves her room and goes into Anna's. Astrid hasn't been in there in weeks, but maybe --  
  
No. Nobody's there.  
  
Before he totally freaks out, because that's coming, like, soon, he checks the last bedroom, Cas'. Cas isn't home, last he checked -- still at Sam's, if he had to guess. Sam said he talked to him and he was coming back on Saturday, two days after he left. It's been a week.  
  
 **Fact: Dean thinks Sam's full of shit. He also thinks Cas is a dickwad. At the moment.**  
  
Cas' door is closed, has been for the past week when he left. Dean takes a deep breath, tries to get over whatever's wrong with him, because it's getting old and he doesn't want to deal with it anymore, and opens the door, quietly, in case Astrid, for some reason, is in there.  
  
There are two people asleep in the big bed facing him. Two dark-haired people.  
  
He comes in a little, watching the floor in case he trips on something, which is pointless because Cas is one of those people who keeps his room hospital-certified clean. As he gets closer, he makes out Cas' face, half-pressed into a pillow. beside him, Astrid is curled around a pillow almost as big as her. She must have woken up when he got in. When did he get in?  
  
Dean looks around. Cas' bag, the one he'd packed and left with, is dropped on the desk chair, unzipped but not unpacked. It almost looks like he was interrupted when Astrid came in last night. Dean wonders if he's even in his pajamas right now.  
He turns, leaves, closes the door quietly behind him, and goes back into his room and tries to sleep for a couple more hours.  
  
 **Fact: He does, but it doesn't feel like it.**  
  
***  
  
Dean wakes up around seven and goes downstairs to make a cup of coffee. Bobby's giving him the day off today, something about "If I see you in here tomorrow morning and you and Cas haven't sorted your shit out, you're fired." He'd known something was up ever since Monday but Dean didn't tell him what was wrong. Jo, traitor that she is, blabbed to him by Wednesday. Dean doesn't even know why he told her in the first place.  
  
"Good morning, Dean." He spins around to see Castiel standing there in sweatpants and a Pink Floyd shirt. He thinks it might have been Anna's at one point.  
  
"Jesus, Cas," Dean mutters, leaning against the counter. "When'd you get back?"  
  
"Last night. Late."  
  
"Did she wake you up?"  
  
"It was the other way around, I believe. She came in just as I was -- sorting things," Dean nods, takes a sip of coffee. It's silent in the kitchen for a moment. Cas doesn't leave the doorway, and Dean doesn't leave the spot against the counter.  
  
"I'm sorry." They both say it at the same time. They look at each other surprised. "You first," Dean says, and Cas goes to argue, but Dean gives him a look.  
  
"I should've told you. About California. I'm not adverse to your idea, but I don't know what I'm doing. The school's contacted me about the job and they want me to fly out before the next semester and look," Cas is looking right at him, intensely, and if it weren't him, Dean would be so uncomfortable. But it's Cas, and that's just what he does, and he's had a little less than seven years to get used to it.  
  
"I shouldn't have bitched you out. Or blown up in your face about the adoption thing." His eyes drop to his coffee mug in his hands at the end of his sentence. They fall silent again, and then--  
  
"How is she?" Dean looks up from his oh-so-interesting cup of coffee. "This week, how's she been?"  
  
"She stopped asking where you were on Wednesday," Dean tells him. "Sammy came by. She asked if he was gonna let you come home. She missed you. We -- we both did."  
  
"I'm sorry. Sam told me I should've come back a week ago."  
  
"Why didn't you?"  
  
"I needed to think."  
  
"And? Are you done thinking? 'Cause I can't explain to 'Strid why you keep dancing in and out of the house, and I don't wanna lie to her and say you'll be around when really you're three thousand miles away. Which, you know what, if you wanna take that job, go for it. You're my friend and I want you to be happy."  
  
 **Fact: Dean wants him to be happy, but he wants him with here, in Brooklyn, just as much.**  
  
"I want to look. Fly out for a week and see. I have been informed that they do not require me until the end of February, when the former professor leaves. I haven’t made any final decisions," Cas says, and before Dean can say anything, "And I will not until I have been on campus and been interviewed, and if they decide to choose me." Dean nods.  
  
"When do you go?"  
  
"The week after Thanksgiving. I'll book a flight later."  
  
"Cas?" Cas turns around in the doorway. Dean leans over slightly to look around him. There's light footsteps on the stairs, and then a sleepy little girl totters into the kitchen, barefoot, in Anna's old Tisch shirt.  
  
"Hey, pretty girl," Cas says, bending down to pick her up. Dean wonders if she stayed up late last night, waiting for Cas. He wonders if that's why she's been so tired lately, if she'd been waiting for Castiel to come home. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and rests her head on the crook between his neck and shoulder. "It's too early."  
  
"Don't wanna sleep anymore," she mumbles into his shirt. Cas looks over her at Dean, who shrugs, crosses the kitchen to run a hand over the back of her head.  
  
"Breakfast? Bobby gave me the day off," Dean says when he sees Cas' confused expression. "'Strid, what you want?"  
  
"French toast," They both look at her as best they can, since she's still burrowing her face in Castiel's collar. They haven't made French toast in months in their house. Once upon a time, it was a regular occurrence, just like Cas' pancakes or Dean's eggs or Gabe's secret candy stash that they'd find in odd places all over the kitchen months after he'd visited. But once upon a time, Anna lived here, too.  
  
 **Fact: Anna made French toast on weekends.**  
  
"Just like Mom, huh," Dean says quietly. "Okay, let's see what we've got."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean will never be able to recreate Anna's French toast just right.**  
  
He comes close. They all think so. He's really fucking close. But they're not Anna's. He follows her handwritten recipe in that stupid floral binder she keeps next to the stove tucked between the side of the cabinet and the cup/vase/thing that holds wooden spoons and spatulas and whisks, and he still can't get it right. Astrid doesn't say anything about it, actually asks for seconds.  
  
"So, 'Strid, what are we doing today?" Dean asks as he washes dishes and she sits on the counter, something she's not supposed   
to do, but Cas is letting it slide and Dean's the one that put her there. "Should we egg Lilith's house?"  
  
"Dean," Cas says, in that voice that sounds like Dean's about two seconds away from being struck dead by sheer willpower.  
  
"I'm kidding, Cas," Dean half-whines. "God, you're worse than Sammy."  
  
"I don't have a Halloween costume." They stare at her. She doesn't sound, like, angry or sad or upset or anything, just that way kids think out loud a lot and don't realize how truly fucking depressing they sound.  
  
"We can do that today. Go into the city, find a costume shop. Should be easy," Cas says, shrugging one shoulder. "Make a day of it. Maybe Sam or Jess would like to come, too."  
  
"Yeah, I'll call them after these are done. What do you wanna be?" Dean asks. Astrid shrugs.  
  
"I like Ariel."  
  
"The Little Mermaid?" Dean asks, looking at Cas. Astrid was never really into the Disney moves like other kids were. She watched them, sure, but not the way little kids watched the same one twenty times in one day. Lately, though, she's been watching that particular one a lot.  
  
"She's on my backpack. She's my favorite."  
  
***  
  
Sam and Jess both tag along to the costume shop. Jess's friend told her about a great costume store on the Upper West side, which is a bitch to get to, but Astrid never really goes into the city and neither does Dean, for that matter. Not that he really likes cities, but whatever. New York's fun. It makes him feel a little more sane.  
  
Sam cocks an eyebrow at him while they're on the subway, and it's probably because you can feel the awkward radiating off him and Castiel, but right now Dean can't really give a shit. They're okay (he thinks) and yeah, he's not entirely sure Cas won't disappear into thin air suddenly, but he's getting over it. Nothing's set in stone. Yet.  
  
"So, how's the ring hunt going?" Dean asks lowly as they walk down the sidewalk, a few paces behind Cas and Jess, who are swinging Astrid by her hands between them.  
  
"What if I waited?" Sam says after a moment and a squeal of delight from Astrid. "I mean, I'm a broke law student. She hasn't been dropping any hints about getting married, so she's not in a rush. Maybe I should just wait until I've got a job and more money and --"  
  
"You  _do_  hear yourself, right?" Dean asks.  
  
 **Fact: For how smart he is in every other aspect of his life, Sam's a fucking moron when it comes to stuff like this.**  
  
Sam makes that "kicked puppy" face but Dean's not having it. "Dude, she's the love of your life. If you don't propose to her, I will, for you. She wouldn't care if you proposed to her with the freaking Cracker Jack plastic ring. But don't, because that's a cheap-ass thing to do." Sam smiles.  
  
"But none of them look like her, you know? She deserves, like, something huge and sparkly and gorgeous and I can't --"  
  
"Sam, we're not having this conversation, partially because she's right there and I'm not having a chick-flick moment on a sidewalk in New York City. I like  _girls_ too, man."  
  
***  
  
Astrid pretty much loses her shit when she sees the costume shop. It reminds Dean of something out of Harry Potter. What, he's not entirely sure, but it has that whole magic vibe going on. Astrid all but disappears into the store when they get there and Jess grabs Sam's hand and drags him off so Cas and Dean are left by themselves.  
  
"Were you planning on dressing up this year?" Cas asks as they maneuver around racks upon racks of vintage clothes and absurd costumes.  
  
"Not really," Dean says. "Anna always made me for Astrid's sake, and me and Sammy didn't really like Halloween when we were little."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"We lived in a neighborhood with a lot of kids, sure, but Sam wasn't into the whole ringing-people's-doorbells thing and our mom always had a ton of extra candy anyway so why work for it?" Dean shrugs. "Bet it was good with Gabe when you guys were kids."  
  
"Gabriel was in high school when we were of the age," Cas says, waving a hand. "He insisted on taking us out, but he always had a stash of those fun-size mixed bags in his room from Halloween."  
  
"Is he coming down for Halloween?" Dean asks. He's come down before -- after all, it's his second-favorite holiday, after April Fool's Day. Astrid has fun with Uncle Gabe, and if Kali comes, she'll insist on doing all the cooking because she's convinced they can't or something, which irks Cas but provides endless amusement for Dean.  
  
"No, he's made plans to visit our family for a while. He'll be there through Thanksgiving, last I heard," Cas says. Dean doesn't bother asking any questions: Gabe's kind of his own boss and he can take extended vacations like that if he so desires.  
  
Still, it's weird. Gabe doesn't talk to them like Cas doesn't. It's been better, since Luci went off the grid, but Gabe and Michael still aren't on the best of terms.  
  
"Cas!" They both turn and see Astrid running up to them with something purple, green, and sparkly. "Look at this!"  
  
"That looks great, kiddo," Dean says, smiling easily as she waves the costume at them above her head.  
  
"Can I get it?"  
  
"Does it fit you?" Cas asks. Astrid nods, head going up and down so quick she looks like a bobble-head. "Then yes."  
  
"I need a wig," Astrid announces, and disappears again, nearly knocking into Sam and Jess as they resurface.  
  
"What's with her?"  
  
"A wig," Dean says, and Cas frowns.  
  
"It's a bit much," he says, half in deep thought. "A wig. She won't like it."  
  
"Dude, you can tell her she can't get a wig. I'm not having that conversation," Dean says, clapping a hand to his shoulder and turning to Sam and Jess. "So, what'd you find, are you two gonna be salt and pepper or something equally sickeningly cute?" Sam rolls his eyes.  
  
"Dorothy and The Cowardly Lion," Jess informs him. Dean snorts. "Oh, shut up, we found costumes for you guys, too."  
  
"Hell no, I'm not dressing up."  
  
"Yes, you are. It's for Astrid," Sam says. Dean glares at him, but he just smirks.  
  
"I'm not being the Tin Man. Or Toto. Or the Scarecrow."  
  
***  
  
Jess keeps the adult costumes in her closet, and Astrid keeps hers in Anna's room. Dean catches her wearing the wig and looking at herself in Anna's vanity mirror a few times, but doesn't mention it, unless he's telling Cas about it. Cas just hums, frowns, and gives Dean one of his Looks.  
  
Dean mentions it to Ellen in passing one day when he's dropping her off for her session, because it's happening more and more, and it's a little weird, and he and Cas are concerned. Ellen promises to ask about it.  
  
When he picks her up, Ellen calls him in for a second. Astrid sits in the waiting room, playing with Dean's phone (which has been childproof since Astrid was three and figured out how to unlock it).  
  
"She's being Ariel," Ellen says.  
  
"Yeah, and she keeps wearing the wig," Dean says. Ellen nods. "Is that it?"  
  
"Dean, who in her life had red hair?"  
  
"Anna," he says, knee-jerk, not even processing it until it's out in the open. "Oh."  
  
"She's reminded of her mother, that's all," Ellen says gently. "If she starts trying to wear it to school or something, we'll talk again, but just let her be. She's fine." She catches his arm as he goes to leave. "And you and Cas are doing fine with her, too."  
  
***  
  
 _Fact: Dean hates Sam Winchester and Jessica Moore._  
  
Well, not really, but he's pretty pissed off.  
  
He's dressed up like a fucking tool right now. Like, weird coat with tails and those ties that look like scarves that you tuck into your shirt if you want to look  _really_ douchey and the weird shoes with buckles and silver thread accenting everything. He's been informed that he's actually the stuffy butler guy from the movie that Dean never really liked, or understood, because the guy's like sixty and has a ponytail and not the cool one (it's tied with a fucking ribbon.  _Not cool_ ). Cas is Prince Eric, apparently, but Dean cannot give less of a shit about that right now. He spent his childhood dressing up as a cowboy every Halloween, for God's sake. His seventeen-year-old self? Yeah, he's laughing his fucking  _ass_ off at the present-age Dean right now.  
  
Astrid, on the other hand, is thrilled.  
  
She's got her wig on, and it's a little matted and frizzy, but she looks like Ariel, with her big blue eyes and fire-engine-red hair and the purple and green dress that looks kind of like a mermaid tail.  
  
"Dean! Didja see Cas yet?" she asks, jumping up and down and grabbing his arm.  
  
"No, I've been too busy getting dressed. Have you?"  
  
"Uh-huh! He looks like Prince Eric!"  
  
"So does that mean you're gonna marry him?" Astrid giggles and shakes her head.  
  
"No, silly, he likes boys," she says, and Dean laughs. "But you could!" Well, there goes  _that_ moment.  
  
"I can't marry him, 'Strid."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"We talked about this, Astrid. We're friends," he says, emphasis on  _friends_.  
  
"That's dumb," Astrid says as the front door opens and Dorothy and The Cowardly Lion come in. Sam slumps against the door frame laughing when he sees Dean.  
  
"Oh, shut up, you're dressed like a big scared cat."  
  
"Dean, you can't say shut up," Astrid says, tugging on his sleeve. Dean sighs heavily, digs his wallet out of the stupid breeches Jess picked out.  
  
"I think you look great," Jess says, setting down the basket she's carrying with a little stuffed dog. "Where's Cas?"  
  
"Probably upstairs, crying for his lost manliness," Dean mutters. "Seriously, do I have to wear this?"  
  
"Dean, it's Halloween," Astrid says seriously. "You gotta dress up."  
  
"I don't get candy, though."  
  
"Well, we can buy some tomorrow when it's like seventy percent off," Sam says. "Come on, man, it's not so bad."  
  
"He's right, you could be Sebastian," Cas says from behind them. Dean turns around to see Castiel coming down the stairs, and oh god. He's wearing a white, puffy shirt and a pair of blue breeches, held up by a red sash, that are tucked into black boots. He did something to his hair so it's kind of messy, like when he rolls out of bed and trudges downstairs and doesn't actually say anything until he has a cup of coffee.  
  
 **Fact: Cas is hot.**  
  
"Cas, you look just like him," Sam says, eyes huge. Jess positively beams.  
  
"It looks fantastic," she gushes. "Are we ready?"  
  
"You're way too into this for an adult," Dean tells her, good-naturedly, because she's like the sister he never had (although one could make an argument for Sam being kind of like a sister at times, not that Dean would say that to his face). Jess just rolls her eyes and grabs his wrist and drags him out the front door.  
  
***  
  
Astrid gets tired about two hours in. How they even managed to keep this up for two hours, Dean doesn't know, but every house they go to, the people think they're absolutely adorable. They also think that Dean and Cas are Astrid's fathers. After the sixth house that asks them, Dean gives up on trying to correct people. Besides, it might warm Astrid up to the idea so when he asks at Christmas, she might actually say yes.


	11. Ten

**Fact: The awkward eventually wears off.**  
  
The days following Halloween are somewhat normal. They're still talking to Ellen but it's looking like they might not have to anymore, although Dean's probably got enough issues to fill the Library of Congress and a guilt complex the size of the state that no matter how many people tell him otherwise, he can't shake it. Astrid sleeps through as many nights as she doesn't and they count that as a win. Lilith seems to have wound down and stopped bothering her, too.  
  
But there's still the fact that Cas is arranging his flight for the week after Thanksgiving, and then Balthazar calls about ten days before Sam's "break" starts (because that's how time is measured in Dean's world: When Uncle Sammy Doesn't Go To School) and announces that he'll be dropping by at Christmas, so have a room ready, and keep the loud, kinky sex to a minimum please and thank you. Dean doesn't even try to remind him there's a kid living here, and it's not like that, because there's really nothing you can say to Balthazar Milton that will make it through his boozy playboy head.  
  
But first, there's Thanksgiving. Fuck.  
  
***  
  
It's not that Dean hates the holiday; on the contrary, he fucking loves it. Any holiday that makes stuffing your face until you can't move and then having dessert a ritual is a good holiday in Dean's book. Sam and Jess always do Thanksgiving with them, and occasionally Gabe and Kali do, too, but that's only when it's a New York Thanksgiving.  
  
Which it isn't, this year.  
  
It's always a fucking battle when they go home to Kansas. Sam and John aren't exactly on the best terms at the moment, and Dean and John are better than they were ten years ago but it's still not great. If Mary weren't there, it'd probably turn into a bloodbath, but it never does. They don't see each other a lot, and that makes them less likely to blow up at each other (them being Sam and John, because Dean's not about to pick a fight with John over the whole sexuality thing, and the passive-aggressive remarks have become much more few and far-between in recent years).  
  
But, still.  
  
 **Fact: Road trips are fun. Unless you're with a small child.**  
  
It's not that Astrid's a brat. She really isn't. She doesn't really fight with Dean or Cas if they say "no" about something, and she does what she's told. However, being in a car for a prolonged period of time brings out the devil in her, so by hour three Dean's about ready to kill someone if Astrid complains about anything one more time. They've already stopped four times since leaving Sam's apartment, and he's at the end of his rope.  
  
It's not for lack of trying, either. Cas has his iPad with him, and he's stuffed it with kid movies and games and music and whatever for her for this trip, and Astrid likes Dean's music. But for whatever reason, she just gets whiny whenever she's in the car too long.  
  
"Is it illegal to drug her?" Dean mutters to Cas, who's riding shotgun because Sam and Jess are sitting in the back, trying to sleep. Jess gets carsick easily and Sam was up late doing law school things last night even though he's technically on break.  
  
"Not illegal, but probably immoral," he replies, just as quiet. Dean rolls his eyes, grips the steering wheel a little tighter.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"What, Astrid?"  
  
"Are we gonna have lunch soon?"  
  
"We just had breakfast," Cas says, ever-patient. Dean could kiss him. Well, he would, for a number of reasons, actually, and this train of thought is so not happening right now, stop it.  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
"Take a nap," Dean says, trying not to be too loud or too mean.  
  
"I'm not tired."  
  
"Astrid, do you want to watch a movie?"  
  
"I'm hungry!"  
  
"You need to be quiet or you'll wake Auntie Jess and Uncle Sam," Cas says, trying to keep her calm. It's been years since a tantrum, but with Dean's luck, and the state of traffic, anything's possible.  
  
"Too late," Sam mumbles, sitting up a little. "Dean, you want me to drive?"  
  
"I’m good, Sammy."  
  
"Next stop, then?"  
  
"Will that be soon?" Astrid interjects.  
  
"It will be when it will be, now watch a movie," Dean says.  
  
***  
  
Mary calls when they get to the motel in Illinois. Astrid, thankfully, didn't throw a tantrum, but she did keep a steady stream of complaints going throughout the drive. She eventually fell asleep in Ohio and slept until they were almost out of Indiana, but that had been the highlight of her day.  
  
"If you'd flown, this wouldn't be an issue," Mary reminds him as he slumps in the chair of the kitchenette and watches Cas dig through a duffel bag to find Astrid's pajamas.  
  
"Mom, if we'd flown, you'd have me puking my guts up until Tuesday."  
  
"Don't be so dramatic," Cas tells him without looking up.  
  
"Is she settling now?" Mary asks.  
  
"Cas is trying to put her to bed right now. She doesn't like the bathroom here," Dean turns away from Cas and Astrid. "Hey, Mom, remind me, when we get there, I gotta ask you and Dad something."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"It's nothing bad, just…big."  
  
"You're not going back to school, are you?" He can see her, teasing smile in place with the phone wedged between an ear and a shoulder, washing dishes in the tiny kitchen that will soon look like the Thanksgiving Fairy threw up in it.  
  
"Yes, I'm going to follow Sammy's footsteps and go to Columbia where I will become a doctor," he says, matching her tone. She laughs.  
  
"Okay, tell everyone we said hello. Put that baby to bed!"  
  
"Don't call her that, she's six."  
  
"Six and a half!" Astrid calls from the other side of the room.  
  
"Not until December, kiddo," Dean tells her.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow," He wonders if she heard Astrid. He can hear her smile, so maybe, yeah, she did.  
  
"Bye, Mom. Love you," He hangs up and tosses his phone on the table. Cas finally finds the nightgown and hands it to Astrid along with her toothbrush and she promptly goes into the bathroom to change and brush her teeth. The door clicks shut just as Sam sticks his head through the adjoining door to his and Jess's room.  
  
"Is it safe?"  
  
"No one's naked, Sammy, what is it?" Sam comes into the room with a small black velvet box. Cas' eyes go huge.  
  
"Is that --"  
  
"Which one is it?" Dean asks, cutting him off. They'd spent days going through every jewelry store Sam could find in Brooklyn and Manhattan that he could afford, looking at the engagement rings. He'd never actually picked one while they were looking, but Dean knew he was thinking it over constantly. Sam glances at the closed bathroom door, then over his shoulder to make sure Jess isn't around, and pinches the lid to open it.  
  
It's simple, but that's what Sam decided he wanted. It's a thin gold band, nestled in the off-white velvet, with a single diamond set in the center. It's a little bigger than what he'd looked at, Dean notes. Not a rock, mind, just…bigger.  
  
"You're going to propose to her? When?" Cas asks, and he looks so happy for them. Dean often forgets that, yes, Sam's his brother, and he considered Anna his sister, but Cas is sort of like Sam's other older brother.  
  
"I haven't decided yet. I was thinking Christmas, but you guys don't do Christmas with us. New Year's, maybe? I don't know. Soon. And, uh, if she says yes, can you guys be my best men?" he asks, hopefully, like he's seven years old again and if he asks right, Dean will take him for ice cream in town. "I mean, I know that's usually one person, but --"  
  
"Of course, Sam," Cas says, smiling. "Congratulations."  
  
"She hasn't said yes yet, y'know," Dean says, flashing a smirk at Sam. "You will be proposing in this century, though, right? You've been sitting on this since May." Sam makes a dying sound and shoves at his brother as Dean leans away, laughing at him as he storms off to hide the ring again. Astrid comes out, frowning.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Dean just thinks he's  _hilarious_ ," Cas says, maybe a little sarcastic, scooping her up.  
  
 **Fact: Dean is hilarious. No one else gets it.**  
  
"You ready for bed? Which one do you want?" The hotel room has two beds. Dean figures she'll pick one and then demand that one of them bunk with her because she's been doing that anyway.  
  
"That one," she points to the bed closer to the bathroom. Cas saunters over to it and promptly drops her in a heap on the bed, evoking giggles and a scramble to stand up next to him. When she stands on the bed, she's the same height as Cas, and they're forehead-to-forehead, laughter still lighting up their faces. Dean makes a note never to use that metaphor ever again if he wants to keep his man card.  
  
"Go to bed, 'Strid," Dean says, walking up and slinging an arm around her to pull her down. "Who's sleeping here?"  
  
"Me," she says, sounding confused.  
  
"No, but which one of us?" Dean asks. She frowns.  
  
"Aren't you sleeping in the same bed?" Dean huffs a laugh, tries to sound amused.  
  
"Why would we do that, kiddo? We don't sleep together at home," Dean says. Astrid frowns.  
  
"You're not angry at each other anymore," He glances up at Cas, who shrugs minutely, just as confused as him. "Jesse said that when his parents get mad at each other, when they make up they sleep in the same bed again."  
  
"Astrid," Dean groans, rocking back a little and rubbing his face. "Cas and I aren't married, sweetheart, we don't do stuff like that."  
  
"But --"  
  
"Time for bed, kiddo. Now, me or Cas?"  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Astrid chooses Dean.**  
  
Neither of them are particularly surprised by that, though. When she was a baby, he was the one she always fell asleep on. Something about him was just soothing to her. Anna called him the Baby Whisperer. Prior to Astrid, the last baby he recalls ever dealing with was Sam. Regardless, she sleeps through the night, and Dean counts that as a win when he only needs two cups of coffee to get going instead of five. Curled up, nestled with her head resting in his armpit and an arm curled on his chest with that stupid bear smushed between them.  
  
The next morning is quiet, mostly because Astrid dozes in and out against Cas' shoulder -- Sam won't let Dean drive and Cas doesn't mind sitting in the back -- and the adults are trying to caffeinate and/or fuel up, and no one really likes mornings.  
They arrive at the Winchester house later than they thought they would. Mary is waiting up for them but the pick-up truck John bought when Dean turned sixteen and got his license and inherited the Impala is missing from the driveway. Dean and Sam don't ask until they're inside, said their Hellos, and Cas is putting Astrid to bed in Dean's old room.  
  
"Where's Dad?" Dean asks, leaned against the counter, arms crossed loosely. Jess and Sam are sitting at the table, steaming mugs of decaf in front of them. Mary's working on dishes, and won't let any of them help her.  
  
"Discussing the team," Mary says wearily. "They want to get the jump on the others next season, so that requires planning."  
  
"On the day his sons come to visit with his grandchild?" Sam asks skeptically, frowning. Mary glances at him for a moment.  
  
"Don't make that face, Samuel," Mary looks at Dean. "So that thing you wanted to talk to me about. Do we need to wait for John or   
is this something that can't wait?" Dean glances at Sam and Jess.  
  
"I wanna adopt Astrid," Dean says after a moment of debate, if he really wants to have this conversation the first time around with both of them. Jess smiles, but doesn't look surprised. He figured she knew. Mary, on the other hand, nearly drops the dish she just rinsed back into the soapy water, and rocks back, look of pure delight on her face. Soapy hands be damned, she throws her arms around her son's neck.  
  
"Oh, Dean! That's great!" But then she stops. "What's wrong with that?"  
  
"Cas might be leaving," Dean tells her. "He got an offer in California and he's thinking about taking it." Mary nods.  
  
"Dean, why would that make a difference?" Mary asks, turning back to her dishes. "You weren't planning on adopting her together, were you?"  
  
"Not really. I mean, I came up with the idea and I figured he might want -- I don't know," Mary glances at him, one eyebrow raised, but he misses the look.  
  
"It'd confuse her," Sam says after a moment, and Dean shoots him a dirty look. "No, man, you and her go back and forth constantly about why you and Cas aren't a thing. If you told her all of a sudden that you two were her dads, she'd think she missed the wedding or something, because dads equal husbands in her mind."  
  
"He's got a point," Jess says, nodding.  
  
 **Fact: Dean doesn't see what they're doing. Yet.**  
  
***  
  
John is in the kitchen the next morning going over the paper, and it's like Dean's gone back twenty years or something, except his father's now a lot grayer and wrinkly. Not that he'll ever mention that.  
  
"Morning," he says, still thick with sleep as he shuffles over to the coffee machine to pour himself a mug.  
  
"Mmm," John replies, engrossed in the newspaper. "What time did you get in?"  
  
"Eightish. You?" Dean wonders when he got back. He hadn't been home when Mary finally forced Dean to go upstairs and go to bed in the spare room, since Cas and Astrid had taken over his old room.  
  
"Late enough," is John's answer, and it figures his father'd be cryptic from the first conversation. Dean doesn't have the energy to press him on it -- it's barely eight-thirty and he's only on one cup of coffee -- and if he's being perfectly honest, he doesn't care that much.  
  
"Sam awake yet?"  
  
"No, but Jessica is," he says and nods toward the living room, where he hears the low sounds of a morning news show. "So's Astrid." Dean looks back at his father. He's got a half-amused, half-absent smile on his face now and that makes Dean feel at least a little better.  
  
He heads into the living room and finds Jess in a pair of flannel pajama pants and what Dean suspects is Sam's Columbia sweatshirt with Astrid sitting next to her in her nightgown, watching Matt Lauer make a fool out of himself on national television.  
  
"Hey," he says, plopping down on Astrid's other side. Jess grins at him. He suspects the cup of coffee in her hands is her third, if she's that awake. He's spent enough time with her to know just how much coffee it takes to get her going.  
  
"Morning," Astrid says, wide-eyed at whatever the weather's forecast is. "Do you think it'll snow?"  
  
"While we're here?" Dean asks, putting an arm across the back of the couch and looking at the TV. She nods. "No, it doesn't look like it." She pouts, and he laughs. "You say hi to Grandpa?"  
  
"Uh-huh," she says, nodding up-and-down-up-and-down, like a bobble head. "How come he wasn't here last night?"  
  
"He had a meeting," is the short answer, and it's all Astrid really needs at this point. Jess casts him a look but he ignores it. He'll fill her and Sam in later.  
  
***  
  
As much as Dean hates to admit it, it's nice being back in Kansas. He stopped calling it "home" after the first month or so of living with Anna and Cas, but it's still an important place to him. He kind of likes driving down the main drag to go to the general store to buy milk or whatever. It's a small town, everyone remembers him and Sam when they were younger, and they're always surprised to see them.  
  
On Tuesday, Dean takes Astrid into town because Mary and Cas need more stuffing even though it's taking over the kitchen and they're out of bread. He's forbidden from buying pie, and Mary's instructed Astrid to cause a ruckus if he tries.  
  
 **Fact: Mary Winchester conspires against her sons with Jess and Astrid, and occasionally Cas. It drives them up the wall, but provides hours of entertainment for the rest of them.**  
  
He's holding Astrid's hand as they walk in because it's habit; what she does when they're in public so she doesn't wander off and get lost and then the ghost of Anna comes back and kills him in his sleep for losing her baby. He doesn't even notice people staring until they're in line at checkout, and Astrid's clutching the bread in her free hand, and talking to Dean about Cas getting covered in flour this morning, and you missed it because you were asleep.  
  
He sets the stuffing box, along with a dozen eggs because he used up the last of them for breakfast, and a new bag of coffee down next to the cash register and Astrid places the bread next to it and looks up at him with huge hopeful eyes that Dean knows all too well and rivals Sam's puppy-dog face.  
  
"'Strid, we're not getting candy. You just said Cas and Grandma spent the day making pie."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"Nope, not happening. But Sam keeps a stash in his suitcase. I'll show you later," he winks and she giggles. The cashier, someone Dean thinks Sam might've gone to school with, smiles at him.  
  
"She's beautiful," she tells him. Dean feels his face get warm. "How old are you, honey?"  
  
"Six and a half," Astrid chirps, flashing her a huge smile that looks just like Anna. The cashier smiles at Dean.  
  
"She looks like you," she tells him and he's caught off-guard.  
  
"Oh, no, she's not -- she's my friend's kid." The cashier looks surprised.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed -- she smiles just like you, that's all," Dean doesn't dwell on the potential stalker, creepy factor that could be taken from the comment but pays her, smiles, and gets the hell out.  
  
"What'd she mean?" Astrid asks when Dean's putting the bags in the car opposite Astrid's car seat.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"She said I look like you.”  
  
"People say that when they're trying to get a date with someone who's got kids," Dean says, hoping that'll end the conversation.  
  
"She thought you were my dad?" Dean pauses for a moment, then puts the last bag in.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Oh," Astrid considers this, and shrugs as he gets into his seat and starts the car. "Okay."  
  
"Okay?"  
  
"You're kinda like my dad," Astrid says, very blasé, if a six-(excuse me, six and a half)-year-old can be that. "'Cept I don't call you dad."  
  
 **Fact: Dean still has not mentioned adopting Astrid to John.**  
  
***  
  
Astrid wakes him up early on Thanksgiving day, and makes him come downstairs with her and Cas, to watch the parade. Jess and Sam are also woken up but they take much longer to come downstairs, and Dean suspects that Sam tried to go back to sleep, and Jess made him get up. Dean, awesome brother(-in-law) that he is, already has coffee waiting for them, with the right amount of sweetener and half-and-half. He thinks he might spend too much time with these people.  
  
Astrid wedges herself between Dean and Sam and kind of forces Dean closer to Cas. She's enraptured by the parade, like she always is. She's always liked the big balloons and spectacles and when there are musical numbers from shows on Broadway, she points and begs to see them. Anna used to take her, but now, Dean's wondering if maybe he should suck it up and take her to see a show. He's made a point of not going to any theatre productions unless they were with Anna's troupe, but if Cas is leaving, and he's really going to be her dad, he should probably get over himself and see a damn musical.  
  
Mary and John come down about an hour after them. Mary's dressed and goes in the kitchen, and Cas and Jess get up to help. John settles next to Sam and for a second, Dean feels like a kid again, before he even knew what liking boys was, and he and Dad and Sammy are just watching the parade, like they do every year, and Mom's working on dinner even though it's all she's been working on all week.  
  
 **Fact: Dean decides, in that moment, that he will not be what John was to him to Astrid when she grows up.**  
  
***  
  
Because they really don't have any other family -- John and Mary were only children and their parents are long gone -- dinner is a quiet affair. It's one of the only times the Winchester Dining Room gets used. Mary insists that everyone dresses up, so it's a fight for the bathroom which Jess wins because she pulls the boobs-and-hair-and-makeup card. Astrid gets to take a bath in the master bathroom because she's the grandchild, and Dean, Cas, and Sam are left to duke it out.  
  
By the time they're all showered, Dean's in his room, straightening the tie that Cas packed for him (different shades of green and navy and white in different-sized stripes, a gift from Anna one Christmas, and one of the only ties he owns that he actually likes), and Astrid is standing on her tip-toes in different, fancier Mary Janes than the ones she wears for school with the socks with lace on the edges, trying to look at herself in the mirror. Cas doesn't need a mirror, already knows he's presentable, and is trying, in vain, to get Astrid's hair to behave. Jess blew it out for her, but Astrid's already managed to mess with it. Dean swats his hands away when he can't watch anymore and does that thing that Jess taught him and suddenly Astrid's hair rivals Disney Princesses’. Well, in her mind, at least. He tries to ignore the awestruck expression on Cas' face, but can't help but smirk a little bit.  
  
Astrid's dress is purple, with a big folded-over collar with little heart-shaped buttons on one side, and a thin black belt that looks like it's the same material as her shoes. Jess picked it out for her when she dragged Dean out shopping because she noticed Astrid was wearing the same four shirts in October and that is so not okay, Dean, she's not living in the back of a car like a nomad she can have more clothes.  
  
 **Fact: Sam and Jess' kids will be the best cared-for kids in the history of ever.**  
  
They go downstairs, Astrid racing ahead of them, and they find John in a blue button-down and a red tie, but he looks like he was forced into it. Mary's putting finishing touches on what looks like cranberry sauce and Jess and Sam are already down, watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving because they got kicked out of the kitchen for trying to help.  
  
"You guys look great," Sam says, flashing him his little-brother-shithead grin. "Took you long enough."  
  
"Astrid had a hair crisis and Cas can't do hair for shit," Dean tells him, plopping down next to him. They can hear Astrid talking to Mary in the kitchen, and then there's the sound of little feet and Sam's got a lap-full of six-year-old.  
  
"Whoa, 'Strid. Wow, nice dress," She grins at him, settles against his chest, and turns her gaze on the screen.  
  
"You're watching Snoopy?"  
  
"Yep," he says, popping the P right next to her ear, which makes her squirm and giggle. "You missed the toast scene."  
  
"Aw!"  
  
"You can watch it in the car on the way home," Cas reminds her. She lightens up at that.  
  
"Okay, guys!" Mary calls, right after Peppermint Patty apologizes for ruining Thanksgiving. Astrid's up faster than the rest of them, partially because she used Sam as a springboard, but whatever, details. Dean switches off the TV and they follow her into the dining room, where Astrid's made little name cards for where everyone should sit. Dean and John are on the ends. Dean's got Cas and Astrid on either side of him.  
  
"So, grace?" Mary asks, smiling and looking to John. They join hands and this is the part that Dean wishes he could skip. He's never felt religious, never in his entire life, not even when he made his Confirmation all those years ago.  
  
"Lord, we thank you for bringing our family together. We thank you for this food, we thank you for the blessings we've had, and we ask you to bless those not with us today. Amen." He's gotten less wordy. Dean mumbles an "amen" along with everyone else -- except Astrid, who hasn't been to a church, ever, Dean thinks -- and lets go of Cas and Astrid's hands. And now he thinks about last night's conversation after Astrid went to bed.  
  
 _"Dean, if you think it's the right thing to do, and if you genuinely want to do it, ask her. You didn't stop me pursuing California, why should I stop you from pursuing this?"  
  
"What if she doesn't wanna be my kid?"  
  
"Dean, she's been your kid since you met her." It's that tone that Cas uses when Dean's being an unintentional moron. "I'm almost positive that if you don't ask now, she'll just start calling you her father without even realizing."_  
  
He waits. They get through dinner, which is happy: it's the goddamn apple pie life Dean's always imagined as a kid and more (because, really, he wasn't anticipating anything like Cas or Astrid). Sam's got Jess, who he should've married, like, last week, and his parents are happy and together and alive and shit, and Dean's even got his own family unit.  
He jumps up to help Mary clear the table and stops her in the kitchen.  
  
"Mom?" She looks worried. "It's nothing, just -- I'm gonna ask Astrid. About -- the thing." Mary's face splits into a huge grin and she hugs him so tight he can't breathe.  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Dad doesn't -- you didn't tell him, right?" Mary nods. "Okay. I can do this, right?"  
  
"Dean, I'm surprised she's gone this long without calling you her father."  
  
He helps Mary set out the pies, and get coffee and Sam's giving him this look like maybe he should check for a fever or call a doctor or something, but Cas just knows what's up and nods encouragingly when he sits back down. Astrid's eyeing the apple pie like it might sprout legs and walk away. He can't make his mouth work and why is he so nervous? He waits, again, until everyone's got dessert in front of them, and he clears his throat. John looks up at him.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Dad, you know how Astrid's your granddaughter?" He doesn't dare look at Sam. He doesn't need to, he knows he's grinning like a fucking moron. He can hear Astrid's fork scrape the plate, and she's totally not paying attention, which might work better for the first part of this conversation.  
  
"Yeah," he says in that wary tone that Dean's heard a lot but the only reason it scares him a little is because that's the same tone he used at the beginning of Dean's coming-out conversation that did not end well.  
  
Maybe this one won't end badly.  
  
"Well, um, I've been thinking --"  
  
"Don't hurt yourself," Sam mutters. "Ow!" Jess just smiles at him and then at Dean.  
  
 **Fact: Dean loves Jess.**  
  
"Been thinking?" John prompts and Mary's got that look on her face, the one that tells Dean she's ready to do damage control at the first sign of trouble. Cas is watching Astrid carefully, who seems to have noticed the conversation and is watching Dean and her grandfather talk.  
  
"I'm already her guardian. I'm responsible for her anyway, and, well, why not just make it official?"  
  
"Are you suggesting --"  
  
"Dean?" Everyone's eyes snap to Astrid. She's looking at Dean with impossibly big blue eyes, head tilted slightly. "Make what official?"  
  
"Astrid, remember how we talked about your dad? How he doesn't exactly know about you and Mom didn't wanna tell him anyway?" A nod. He continues: "And how the cashier thought I was your dad?" It seems to click.  
  
"Do you wanna be my dad?" He grins.  
  
"Do you want me to be your dad?" She glances at Cas, who he can't see, but she looks back at him and smiles.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: They start the trek home Saturday morning.**  
  
Mary hugs them goodbye about four times each, with an extra for Astrid. John wakes up at the ass crack of dawn for them, and he even hugs Sam and Dean. Neither remembers when that happened last. Dean's starting to like this holiday more and more.  
  
Of course, John hadn't actually spoken to him since the adoption conversation, but a hug speaks volumes, right?  
  
"You be good for your dad, okay?" Dean swears he hears him tell Astrid when he hugs her goodbye. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees her nod.  
  
"I call first leg," Sam says, suddenly in front of Dean and taking the keys out of his hand. "And Jess called shotgun." Before Dean can protest, Sam's practically skipping down the walkway to the Impala. Astrid takes his hand and gently tugs him toward the car after Sam, Cas close behind. Astrid slides into the backseat first, followed by Dean, and then Cas. Dean watches the little house disappear through the back window.  
  
Maybe Thanksgiving in Lawrence isn't so bad after all.


	12. Eleven

It's kind of funny, actually.  
  
Astrid's still not used to calling him "Daddy." Cas told him from the get-go that he's almost positive she's been calling him that in her head since she learned the word, but she still says it like "De-addy" sometimes. She sounds like she's from Jersey or something.  
  
It's a start, Dean thinks.  
  
What's really surprised him is that he responds to it like it's his real name. He wonders if maybe he's been calling himself that in his head subconsciously.  
  
He also wonders what the hell is wrong with him.  
  
Cas leaves for California four days after they get back and three days after Sam and Astrid start school again. The night before he goes, Sam comes over one last time before diving into midterm review hell and not surfacing for a few weeks. Jess makes dinner and they don't eat at the table for once, and instead watch The Little Mermaid for the millionth time on the couch, being super careful not to spill/drop anything on the rugs or the furniture.  
  
Astrid wakes up earlier than usual the next day to say goodbye to him. She hugs him extra tight and he promises to be back before Santa comes.  
  
"Don't forget to go Santa-shopping," Cas whispers to Dean when he hugs him goodbye. Dean nods and pats Cas awkwardly on the shoulder and they both watch from the doorway as Cas gets into the cab waiting for him.  
  
During his lunch break that day, Dean calls Zachariah, against his better judgment, and talks adoption. Zachariah sounds less-than-pleased, but answers his questions and arranges for the papers to be sent over. It's easier, that he's already the guardian, and doesn't have to go before a judge or anything. Jo watches him on the phone.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"I've, uh, decided to adopt Astrid," he says. Her eyes go huge, and she smiles even huger.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, really," Dean says, sitting down on the bench next to her.  
  
"Damn," she says, taking a bite of her sandwich. "What's your boyfriend gotta say?"  
  
"He's not my boyfriend," Dean says. "He's happy for me. If he doesn't get the job, maybe he'll want to, too. I don't know."  
  
"She calling you dad yet?"  
  
"Daddy," he says, and doesn't even realize he's smiling until his face starts to hurt.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean thinks someone important might hate him, because every time something gets good, it gets bad, really fast.**  
  
A week after Cas left and Dean has this dad thing down cold. Of course, it's not much different than before the D-word, but details. He wakes up, gets dressed, wakes up Astrid, goes downstairs, makes breakfast, goes back upstairs to make sure Astrid's actually getting dressed, goes back downstairs, and waits. Once Astrid's downstairs, he gets food into her before taking her off to learn things and he goes to work. At some point he'll text Cas with an update, but it's like five in the morning in California, or something and he doesn't want to bother him.  
  
Dean thinks that he's got this thing in the bag. Astrid's happy, still slipping up sometimes, but he doesn't really care. When he does talk to Cas, Cas sounds happy. Tired, uncertain that he'll get the job, but happy to have the experience, or something. Zachariah sends the papers over on a Tuesday, but they take up residence in Dean's nightstand because he doesn't want to sign anything until Cas knows if he's got the job and if he’s taking the job. He doesn't tell Sam this.  
  
It's a Wednesday when Astrid says "no" about something that could potentially go nuclear. She's fighting him on bedtime.  
  
"But I don't wanna go to bed!"  
  
"'Strid, it's a school night, you have to wake up early tomorrow. Just go.”  
  
"No."  
  
"Astrid."  
  
"I don't wanna."  
  
"It's not up for negotiation, so come on, let's go!"  
  
Twenty minutes, a small meltdown that can't really be called a "tantrum" but it's the closest thing to one that's happened in recent times (he can't remember when the last one was -- a year ago? Maybe more?) and it's enough to call Cas about.  
  
"…And she just pitched a fit. Out of fucking nowhere. What am I supposed to do with that?" He can hear the gears in Cas' head going, three-thousand-odd miles away.  
  
"I don't know, Dean."  
  
"Some help you are."  
  
"Dean, the last time she had a tantrum, Anna sent her to her room for a timeout. And then made a cup of coffee laced with rum. I don't recommend that course of action, and I have no other experience with a child throwing a tantrum."  
  
"Where was I when that happened?"  
  
"I believe you and Sam had to go to Kansas for a family event," Dean misses talking to Cas, watching his face scrunch up as he tries to remember details about a lifetime ago.  
  
"So maybe I don't have this dad thing down quite yet," Dean admits after a while.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Cas brushes it off easily and Dean misses him even more.  
  
***  
  
It's a Friday when his phone rings as he's fixing a tire, which he'd normally bitch about being below his talent or whatever, but he's bored. He wedges it between his shoulder and ear as he answers.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Is this Dean Winchester?"  
  
"Yep, who's this?"  
  
"Headmaster Victor Henrickson of St. Peter's. I've got your daughter with me, and she told me to call you."  
  
"Is everything okay?" Dean says, standing up straighter, still clutching the tire.  
  
"We should probably talk in my office."  
  
"Right. Of course. I'll be right there," He hangs up before the headmaster -- and isn't that a douchey title -- and finishes changing the tire as quickly as he can. He sticks his head in Bobby's office, says, "I gotta go, taking lunch now, Astrid's in the Principal's office," in one breath as he's still walking towards his car. He pulls out into the street and he starts thinking about what he's going to do with Astrid if she has to go home. He can't leave work early, but if she's sick he can't bring her to the garage, either. Although, from the way Headmaster what's-his-face was talking, it didn't sound like she was sick, it sounded like she was in trouble.  
  
 **Fact: Astrid doesn't get in trouble.**  
  
He gets there and nearly forgets to lock his car. He half-runs across the parking lot and makes it inside to the front desk, asks where the headmaster's office is, and is directed to a door just down the main hallway.  
  
Astrid is sitting in a chair much bigger than what he knows she's used to. On either side of her are Jesse and Lilith, each with a parent. Everyone turns to look when he comes into the office.  
  
"Hey, Mr. Winchester," Jesse says sheepishly. Dean waves a little, nods at his mother, who smiles slightly. He doesn't acknowledge the equally blonde woman sitting with Lilith.  
  
"Mr. Winchester, take a seat," a man, who Dean guesses is Headmaster Victor Henrickson, says, motioning to a chair between Astrid and Jesse. He slips into it, glances at Astrid, who isn't meeting his eyes, and turns full attention to Henrickson. "What is this about?"  
  
"You mean aside from the fact that your daughter attacked mine?" Mama Lilith spits out. Dean actually turns in his chair to stare (maybe glare a little, too) at her.  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"Mrs. Freemont, please," Henrickson sounds exhausted, doesn't want to deal with this any longer than he has to. Dean gets the feeling Mrs. Freemont's in here a lot.  
  
"Astrid?" Dean looks at her now, but she just stares at her shoes.  
  
"According to the teacher on recess duty this morning, Astrid and Lilith got in a fight which became… physical. Jesse is only here because he was able to give a more detailed account of what happened," Henrickson says, looking between the parents. "No one's in any serious trouble, but I'd like to make it clear that if this happens again, the consequences will be much more severe." It's silent. The adults are looking at him, but the children are pointedly looking anywhere except at anyone else.  
  
"Does anyone need to go home?" Mrs. Turner asks.  
  
"I don't think it would be beneficial to anyone if they went back to class," he says in a rather resigned voice. "I'll let the teacher know. Thank you for your time. Except -- Mrs. Freemont, a word?"  
  
Astrid is the first one out the door and barely pauses for Dean to catch up with her. She does stop when they get to the parking lot and takes his hand there, but there's still no talking at all.  
  
"Okay, you've got two options," he says once they're in the car, leaning around to look at her. She's still not looking at him, having taken an exaggerated interest in a tree outside the window. "Come with me to the garage, or I drop you in law school midterm study hell with Uncle Sam." She doesn’t tell him to put a dollar in the jar, and that's how he knows something's wrong. "'Strid?"  
  
"Are you gonna tell Cas?" she asks, big blue eyes (are they teary? Jesus Christ) suddenly focused on him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't tell Cas."  
  
"Why shouldn't I?"  
  
"Because I promised to be good, and I wasn't, and then he'll be upset and you're already upset and I'm gonna have to call you Dean again and I won't have any parents and Lilith'll be right and --"  
  
"Whoa, slow down, sweetheart," he stops her. "Listen, we're gonna go home really fast, get you a sandwich or something, and then we're gonna go to the garage and have a big long conversation while I clean an engine and get all gross and dirty, and then we're gonna go home and stay up because it's Friday. But before we do all that, I'm gonna say something, and I'm gonna say it once, so listen, okay? You can call me whatever you damn well please. I don't care if it's Dean, Daddy, Winchester, whatever -- but I'm your dad, and there's nothing that's gonna change that. You got that?" She looks down, but he catches the minute nod, directed at her not-so-shiny-anymore Mary Janes. "Good. Now, peanut butter or ham and cheese?"  
  
***  
  
Jo shoots him a look as he walks back into the garage an hour after he left, Astrid changed into jeans and an old Anna shirt, but doesn't ask him. He tells Astrid to wait in his workspace and knocks on the door frame of Bobby's office. He looks up from the paperwork, eyebrow raised.  
  
"Yeah, boy?"  
  
"Astrid's here. If that's okay. She had to leave early," He doesn't know why he's so nervous.  
  
"'S fine. Don't let her get hurt or nothin', I'm not doing the paperwork for that," He glances back up at him. "Everything okay?"  
  
"Rain check," he replies, and turns and goes back to his workspace. Astrid's sitting on the desk, feet on the spindly chair, tapping her knees rhythmically.  
  
"So, what happened?" Dean asks as he pops the hood and gets to work. "C'mon, kiddo, we can do this while I'm elbow-deep in engine and less likely to freak out, or we can do this at home and risk you going to bed without pie." It's an empty threat; he wouldn't actually do that to Astrid, he's a big softie like that, but he needs some kind of leverage over her right now.  
  
"Lilith was teasing Jesse again," she says hesitantly. "Said he's an orphan ‘cause his parents adopted him." Dean frowns at the mess in front of him, but lets her keep talking. "So I told her to stop it, 'cept she didn't listen to me and started making fun of me, too, ‘cause Mommy's dead, but I told her I had a Daddy now, and she said that it wasn't true and you're only doing it ‘cause Mommy wanted it and if I did something wrong you and Cas'd hate me, and then she went back to teasing Jesse and I got mad so I pushed her and she tried to hit me but missed and then she jumped at me and I pushed her over and then she pulled me down and --"  
  
"Okay, I get it, 'Strid. Are you hurt?" He looks up at her. She's shaking her head, long braids swinging with the motion. "Good. Did you get a few good punches in?" Her eyes go wide, and he chuckles a little.  
  
"Dean Winchester, I know you're not encouraging violence in small children!" Jo's voice carries across the garage.  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it, Harvelle!" He hears her laugh, and when he looks at Astrid, she's smiling, too. "But you're okay?" She nods. "Good. I thought Lilith was leaving you alone."  
  
"She  _was_."  
  
"She bothers you again, you tell me or Cas or your teacher, okay?" He looks up, fixes her with a look he hasn't used in years, not since Sam was in middle school, probably, and she nods.  
  
***  
  
Bobby makes his rounds like he always does but stops at Dean's workspace to chat with Astrid, who he hasn't seen since before Thanksgiving. She tells her version of Thanksgiving in Kansas, right up to when Dean asked her if she wanted him to be her daddy. Dean knows the entire garage is listening in from the way Rufus stops banging so loudly on things, and Andy stops singing along to whatever awful song's blaring from his radio.  
  
 **Fact: He, strangely enough, doesn’t care.**  
  
When they go home, Astrid stays up way past her bedtime like Dean promised. They slump into the couch, watching ABC's 25 Days of Christmas and eating popcorn. Astrid falls asleep halfway through the Jim Carey version of the Grinch -- which is neither of their favorites, but it was a double feature, and what the hell -- and Dean figures he might as well turn it off because he's not sad enough to watch that shit by himself. He scoops her up and carries her, head resting on his shoulder and legs over one arm, up the stairs and tucks her into her bed. He flops across his bed and dreams of that picnic in Central Park with Cas and Astrid from two summers ago that Anna was at, too, but she's not there in the dream.  
  
He wakes up too early for a Saturday, much less one he has off. Astrid's crawling into bed with much more unsteady movements than usual. Normally, he doesn't even wake up.  
  
"'Strid?" He sounds even more gravelly. "What's up, baby girl?"  
  
"Don't feel good," she mumbles, cozying up to his side. He frowns, sits up. She's much warmer than she should be.  
  
"Like how? Like you're gonna puke or just cruddy?"  
  
"Both." He sits up a little more and puts a hand over her forehead.  
  
"You didn't puke, right?"  
  
"No," she replies, little and whiny but in the way that makes his chest hurt, not like on the road trip -- was that really two weeks ago? -- that made him want to kill something fluffy.  
  
"Okay. Try to sleep, kiddo," he says as she burrows even further into the blankets.  
  
Dean checks the clock, decides Cas will kill him if he texts him at one in the morning, California time, and is careful to not lie on Astrid's hair as he lies back down and tries to go back to sleep.  
  
***  
  
When he wakes up again, Astrid is still asleep, looking too pale and feeling too warm for his liking. Cas isn't awake, since it's five in the morning where he is, so he settles for calling Sam and Jess.  
  
"I'm gonna kill you," Sam grumbles into the phone.  
  
"Dude, it's a weekend. Why'd you stay up studying? Don't even try to tell me you weren't."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Astrid's sick."  
  
"Like, sniffles or appendicitis?"  
  
"Jesus, neither! She said she felt pukey last night and she's really warm and pale and I don't know what I'm doin.,"  
  
"Hey, Jess," Sam gets muffled, but not well. "Dean says Astrid's sick, what should he do?" There's silence as Jess answers him, and then he asks, "Is she sleping right now?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"He said yes," More silence. "Jess says that when she wakes up, if she's still running a fever, put her in a bath, and then have her eat some crackers and make sure she drinks a lot of water because she'll get worse if she's dehydrated."  
  
"Okay, and what do I do if she pukes?"  
  
"Dude, you're her dad, you clean it up."  
  
"No shit. I meant after that."  
  
"I don't know, keep her from doing it again?"  
  
"Give the phone to Jess," Dean says. He hears an indignant huff that he knows is partnered with Sam's Bitch Face, and then the sound of the phone being passed to new hands.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"If Astrid pukes, what do I do, besides clean it up, as my genius little brother pointed out?"  
  
"Don't let her eat anything with a lot of anything, really. Saltines. You guys have saltines, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so," he says, mentally walking through their pantry and trying to find the box of saltines that never seems to run out.  
  
"Good, and tea. Cas has some in the cabinet with the baking supplies. Use peppermint. It's better for upset stomachs. And ignore Sam, okay? It's not appendicitis. You'd know."  
  
"De-addy?" Astrid's awake.  
  
"She's up."  
  
"Good luck!" is the last thing he hears before hanging up, tossing the land line onto the couch and heading up the stairs.  
  
"Hey, 'Strid, how you --" but he stutters to a stop because Astrid has vomited all over his bed. Fucking great.  
  
"I'm sorry," she says with big teary eyes and Jesus fucking Christ, Dean's not qualified to do this. Dad thing?  _So_ not down.  
  
"Hey, it's okay, don't cry, Astrid, c'mere," he says, glancing at her to make sure she's not covered in it or anything. Nope, just on his bedspread. He scoops her up and she curls in on herself in his arms, making herself even smaller. He carries her into the bathroom and sets her down carefully on the closed toilet and starts running the water to fill the tub. "Okay, let's see, where did Cas put the thermometer." And now he's talking to himself. Great.  
  
He digs through the drawers and finds the thermometer, the one that gets jammed into her ear that she hates, but not as much as the one that goes under the tongue.  
  
"Okay, 'Strid, hold still. I'm sorry," he says, wincing as he sticks it in her ear and she whimpers. She's warm to the touch and the thermometer confirms her fever. The bath's almost full so he shuts it off, and turns to her. "I'm gonna go take care of my room, you get in the tub and soak, because that's what Auntie Jess said to do. Do you feel any better?" She shrugs. "Okay. You, tub." And he dashes across the hall to his bedroom and yanks the comforter off, bundles it up so he doesn't have to actually touch anything, and carries down the stairs to the basement where the washer and dryer are. There's a big sink down there, too, that he runs over the puke spot because he's so not touching that. Once it's been taken care of, he throws it into the washing machine and doesn't even pay attention to which detergent he grabbed and very well may have to run it again later but Astrid's upstairs and he can't leave her unattended for too long.  
  
Astrid is in the tub, up to her chin in water, hair fanning out around her in messy, surely knotted tendrils that are going to be a bitch to brush later. She's getting a little color back in her face, he thinks, and that's a plus.  
  
"Feeling any better?" he asks, settling on the closed toilet and nudging her pajamas with his foot toward the corner between the wall and bathtub. She shrugs minutely, sending the water into a new frenzy around her. "I think Balthazar's coming this week," he says, drawing attention away from being sick. "You remember him, right? He's got an accent and he travels all the time, so he's got all that cool stuff with him?" She nods. More ripples.  
  
***  
  
Astrid gets out of the tub and puts on clean pajamas. Dean takes her temperature again and while it's gone down, her fever hasn't broken. They go downstairs, and he gets saltines and the peppermint tea and Astrid settles on the couch, wrapped in the huge quilt that Anna made out of old T-shirts she found around the house that no one claimed back when Sam still lived with them. Dean wants to call Cas, let him know, but it's still too early where he is. So he sits, lets Astrid lean into his side, and finds the Disney Channel, that's airing all their Christmas-themed episodes, ever, in one big marathon.  
  
 **Fact: He doesn't get to call Cas. Because Cas calls him.**  
  
Astrid dozes off halfway through Phineas and Ferb, and Dean will deny until the day he dies that he got sucked into it. His phone's on vibrate in his shirt pocket but it still scares him when it goes off.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"If Astrid ever gets sick and you don't call me right away, I'll kill you with my bare hands."  
  
"Well, give a guy a break, it was five in the morning your time, I figured you might wanna actually sleep in on a weekend. Sam called you?"  
  
"Of course," Cas says, as if the very notion of anyone else calling is ridiculous. "Is she alright?"  
  
"I think it's just a bug. She hasn't puked since --"  
  
"She threw up?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, when she woke up," He can hear Cas thinking again. He doesn't like it. It's not nearly as amusing when he can't see his face.  
  
"She's not -- did you check for appendicitis?" Dean screws his eyes shut, looks over at her. She's sleeping on her side, kind of, arm pressed into her right side.  
  
"No, but she's kinda jamming her hand right there in her sleep, so I think she's fine. When's Balthy coming by?"  
  
"Don't call him that, he'll kill you. Either the day before or the day after me, depending on whether or not his business is done early. Gabriel arrives shortly after that. Be sure we've got alcohol, he’ll have just dealt with Michael and lord knows who else, and will be in a terrible mood."  
  
"Got it," Astrid sits up next to him, rubbing one eye. "Hey, sleepyhead, how's it going? You gonna throw up again?"  
  
"Sticky," she says, sleep-thick and frowning. He touches the back of two fingers to her forehead. Her fever's broken.  
  
"Change in a minute, you wanna talk to Cas?" She nods, and he passes the phone off to her.  
  
"Hi, Cas. Uh-huh. No, I feel better. I took a nap. Daddy made me take a bath and then he said Auntie Jess had special tea and it tasted funny -- yeah, like a candy cane! Are you coming home soon? That's not soon," She frowns and Dean smiles, presses a hand to his mouth to hide it. He thinks he can hear Cas laughing. "I miss you. So does Daddy." His smile fades. "Uh-huh. I'll tell him. Okay. Love you too." She holds the phone out to him. Cas already ended the call. "Cas says he misses you, too."  
  
 **Fact: Dean misses Cas more than any of them, even Dean himself, knows.**


	13. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted on my LJ in two parts, but I'm just going to post it as one long chapter here.

**Fact: Balthazar is an asshole with no concept of normal-person-time.**  
  
This is proved when he barges into the apartment at stupid O'clock in the morning on the first day of Sam's break (which is marked with a little smiley face from Jess on the white board calendar in the kitchen), which is also the last day of school for Astrid until January.  
  
Of course, Dean thinks that someone's breaking into the house and creeps down the stairs with the baseball bat that lives under his bed in hand, ready to beat the absolute shit out of whatever goon's breaking into their house, only to be faced with a blond, British, and rather put off man in his kitchen, brewing coffee and looking for a snack.  
  
Sam laughs himself silly when he comes over for dinner and Balthazar recounts the tale.  
  
 **Fact: Sam is also an asshole.**  
  
Astrid, having recovered from her vomit-fest, likes Balthazar. He hasn't really been part of her life, since he's always away on business and has houses all over the damn place and the Brooklyn brownstone was never his favorite anyway ("I can't have parties here, there are kids all over the damn place, and the police have an unnaturally fast response time, do you have any idea how hard it is to work around that?"). So, he doesn't stop in much. The occasional holiday, since he talks to his parents about as much as Cas and Gabe do with theirs, and sometimes when he's in town he'll drop by for dinner or something, but he's never really around long enough. In fact, this stay will be the longest he's ever stayed with them.  
  
Should be fun.  
  
Gabe's flight gets in that night, and he calls and tells Dean not to come get him, because the freak actually likes taking the subway and cabs. Cas says that Gabe misses the city, and likes to immerse himself as much as possible when he goes because Portland's not New York. It's probably for the best, though, because Dean doesn't think leaving Astrid, Sam, and Balthazar in the house alone together would end well.  
  
Astrid demands to stay up and wait for Gabe, and Dean can't really find a good reason why she can't -- she doesn't have school tomorrow, and Sam's totally taught her that stupid puppy-dog-pout -- so she does, chatting with Balthazar about what they've been doing since they last saw each other (two years ago, Gabe's family reunion. It didn't end well for Dean or Cas. Gabe's not trying that again anytime soon).  
  
When he finally gets in, he's dragging two suitcases behind himself and looks wrecked, and not just in the "Airports are stressful" kind of way. He says his hellos, accepting Astrid's tackle-hug with a laugh, and makes his way into the kitchen while shrugging out of his wool coat that Dean knows Kali bought because Gabe's more of a puffy nylon ski jacket kind of guy. At least, that's what Anna said.  
  
"So, next time I tell you guys that I'm going to visit Mike and Raffie and the 'rents, don't let me go," Gabe says, collapsing into the chair. "Luci made an appearance."  
  
"Really? The bastard finally showed up? He owes me money," Balthazar says, sauntering in with Astrid in tow.  
  
"Balthazar, you gotta put a dollar in the jar," Astrid says, tugging on his shirt. He looks down at her, a look of "what the actual fuck are you talking about" on his face but Sam sticks a huge arm over Balthazar's shoulder, waving the Mean Words Jar in his face.  
  
"Are you serious?" Balthazar says, looking at Dean.  
  
"Dude, house rules. You signed it over to Cas and by association, Anna. They make the rules, not me. I only live here."  
  
"And are adopting the very precocious child of my dead cousin, I would think you have some influence," Balthazar says, digging his wallet out of his pants -- which are really tight, how does he keep anything in the pockets? -- to shove a bill (but Dean thinks it might be a ten, because he's not entirely convinced Balthazar knows what a one dollar bill looks like) in the jar and Sam retracts his arm to put the jar back.  
  
"Ugh, Dean, I don't care what any of my brothers say, you're the best," Gabe says as Dean opens four beers and slides one across the table to him, and hands one to Balthazar and one to Sam.  
  
"And they talk. A lot. Nothing nice, either," Balthazar adds helpfully.  
  
"Speaking of brothers, where's Cassy? Shouldn't he be home by now?" Gabe asks, picking up the bottle.  
  
"He gets back in a few days. He'll hear from them in January," Dean says, the words well-practiced and overused, but Gabe either doesn't notice or is nice enough not to comment on that.  
  
"Oh, good, I can bother him, then. Sam gets testy," Gabe says instead, shooting a grin at Sam, who's lurking in the doorway.  
  
"I'm sorry, Gabe, I didn't realize that the normal response to getting locked in a supply closet at a Mariott, was to thank someone."  
  
"Oh, that was one time!"  
  
"There was that one time you --"  
  
"Shut up, Dean."  
  
"Uncle Gabe, you gotta put a dollar in the jar!"  
  
***  
  
Because Gabe's there, and he's a marginally more responsible adult than Balthazar, Dean doesn't feel too nervous about leaving Astrid home the next day when he has to go into the garage. Bobby, who's become more like family over the years, and drops by on Christmas for at least a little while, knows a little too much about Dean's personal life .and knows that he's functioning as a single parent and is weirdly understanding about it, because God knows he isn't with other mechanics in the shop. Jo says it's because he's his favorite.  
  
 **Fact: Dean's just surrounded by assholes in his life. It's really quite sad.**  
  
He still hasn't looked at the adoption papers seriously, with the intent to sign them, and he doesn't know why he's waiting, why he wants Cas there to read it over with him. There's no point, is there?  
  
"So, I hear it's all Full House at casa de Winchester," Jo says, sticking her head around the barrier.  
  
"We got cousins, we got brothers, we got small orphaned children, we're a sitcom," he says, reading over the diagnostics of the car he's working on.  
  
"My mom said you could use a friend," Jo says, walking around and sitting on the desk next to the paperwork. "Also, she said to remind you to please not be late for Astrid's appointment tonight."  
  
"Do you have any idea how strange this is?"  
  
"What, that I'm your therapist's daughter and best friend, after the guy you're pining after, or that I'm delivering her messages?"  
  
"Shut up." Jo laughs.  
  
"So, what's on the schedule for Christmas?"  
  
"Well, Cas should be home soon, so he'll have ideas. Astrid wants to do pictures with Santa like every year, so there'll be that. I don't do anything on New Year's, but I'm sure Gabe or Balthazar has plans," Dean shrugs. "I try not to ask too many questions, my head starts to hurt." Jo laughs.  
  
"So you don't actually have a return date on your boyfriend?"  
  
"He's not -- no. Hasn't mentioned it. Guess I'll just wake up one morning and he'll be up attempting to brew coffee," When Jo raises her eyebrow, he explains: "He can't make coffee to save his life. Anna used to make fun of him all the time because of it. I'm getting him a Keurig for Christmas."  
  
***  
  
Sam, now that he's done with school until January, is over a lot more, and by association, Jess. She teaches Dean new things to do with Astrid's hair, now that they're over for more than just an hour, before Sam has to go back to studying, and Jess has to go back to make sure he doesn't kill himself or something. Gabe and Balthazar are caught between laughing their asses off, and staring in wonder as Dean Fucking Winchester French-braids a six-year-old's hair.  
  
 **Fact: If nothing else, Astrid will always have great hair with Dean as her father.**  
  
"Once it's a little longer, we can do all kinds of twists and stuff," Jess says as Dean ties off the braid with a small elastic, the kind that feel like they'll snap in his fingers if he's not careful. Hair wasn't something he expected to be good at, doesn't even know why he's good at it, but being a possibly-soon-to-be-single dad, it's something he should probably know. Besides, Cas can't do her hair for shit. "She'll have the best hair in first grade!"  
  
"Hey, when's my nerd brother coming home?" Gabe asks, finally snapping out of it.  
  
"Call him and ask. He hasn't given me a straight answer. He promised before Christmas," Dean says, sitting straight on the couch as Astrid leans into his side.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Probably 'Cause California's the best place ever," Balthazar says, coming back from the kitchen with three beers balanced in his hands and passes one to Gabe and another to Dean. "I'll bet you whatever's in my wallet he's already found an apartment."  
  
 **Fact: That sentence made Dean's stomach sink just a little.**  
  
"Balth, shut up, he's coming home," Gabe says, digging his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and pressing whatever speed dial he has set for Cas. Astrid opens her mouth, probably to tell Gabe to put a dollar in the jar, but Cas picks up before she can say anything. "Hey, bro. Yeah, so I'm here, with your lovely and totally platonic roommate -- oh come on, I'm hilarious! Anyway, we were wondering if we should start sending out the search parties for when you come back, because Deano's telling me you haven't given an ETA on your return to winter." He listens, lips pursed, and then: "Dude, I will have Balthazar fly me out there, and I will drag you by your stupid trench coat that you've been wearing since high school, back to Brooklyn if you're not home by Christmas Eve, do you hear me?"  
  
"'Strid, go see if Uncle Sammy found the takeout menus," Dean says quietly to her, because he sees where this argument's going, and she doesn't need to hear it. She frowns slightly, but hops up and goes into the kitchen.  
  
"Because it's your family, you moron! Astrid keeps asking when you're coming home, and Dean can't answer that, and my God you're dumb, sometimes, for someone qualified enough to be a college professor," He stops to listen, but only for a moment. "I'm serious, Castiel. Christmas Eve. Or we'll come get you." And with that he hangs up his phone, and looks at Dean. "How have you not, like, moved out yet?"  
  
"You get used to it," Dean shrugs.  
  
***  
  
Cas texts him a couple times in the days following Gabe's bitch-out via phone, but doesn't call. On a Thursday, he drops off the grid completely, which isn't something new, he's done that a couple times, but it's still something that makes Dean uneasy. What if something happens? How does he contact Cas?  
  
Dean, Gabe, and Balthazar end up watching a football game, and then the news, and then reality TV, and slowly Balthazar and then Gabe go up to bed, but Dean stays downstairs. He's comfortable on the couch, dammit, he's not going to move. He doesn't know when he drops off, but he falls asleep eventually, because he wakes up to someone pulling a blanket over his legs.  
  
 **Fact: it reminds him of Kansas.**  
  
"Whuh?" he starts to lift his head off the pillow that wasn't there before, eyes not quite open, but there's a hand on the top of his head gently pushing him back down. He thinks he might hear someone chuckle quietly, but the sound's lost because he's soon asleep again.  
  
When he wakes up, he smells coffee and bacon. He rolls off the couch, getting tangled in Anna's god-awful afghan, and stumbling into the kitchen to find Gabe, of all people, flipping pancakes with brightly-colored spots on them, which can only be M and Ms because the guy's a sugar addict. There's bacon sizzling in the pan next to it, and on the counter is what looks like an almost cold and very full cup of coffee.  
  
"Hey, you're alive," Gabe says, glancing at him as he flips another pancake. He's wearing a toque, and where he found one is anyone's guess, and he's also wearing a "KISS THE COOK" apron and Dean's almost positive he's doing it just to be an ass. The part that's skeptical is the part that knows it was Anna's apron, and she kept it around for giggles.  
  
"Yeah, where is everyone?"  
  
"Well, Balthy's still sleeping because that is apparently what wealthy fortysomething bachelors do on Fridays," Gabe says, switching over to mind the bacon, "Your daughter and your brother are on a coffee run, because my brother just used up the last of the coffee in an attempt to make some, and I don't know where he went off to."  
  
"He's back?"  
  
"Yeah, last night, didn't you see him?" Gabe shoots him a sideways glance. "He came in, made a shit-ton of noise. Astrid woke up."  
  
"She didn't wake you guys, did she?"  
  
"Balthazar sleeps like the dead," Gabe says, turning off one of the stoves and scraping bacon onto a plate and then covering it with a bowl to keep the heat in. "And Cas woke me up. She was fine, don't worry about her. Go find my brother, and see if he wants breakfast."  
  
Dean heads up the stairs and glances at the closed door where Gabe and Balthazar are staying in single beds, where he and Sam stayed all those years ago. He thinks about Anna's room, still unchanged since May, how maybe they should refurbish that into another guest room, or turn it into an office, or offer it to Astrid for her "big girl" room.  
  
 **Fact: He still hasn't quite faced Anna's memory.**  
  
He crosses the hall and sees Cas' door not quite shut, like it always is when he's inside. He knocks twice, and the door swings open a little more.  
  
Cas is in Columbia sweatpants and a Tisch shirt, which seems to be the uniform for pajamas among the people Dean knows. He's got a really, really good case of bedhead and his face all but lights up when he sees him.  
"Cas," Dean says, slumping in the doorway just a little.  
  
"Hello, Dean," he says, and he sounds so much better than a staticky phone connection. Dean missed this, missed being able to talk to him face-to-face, being able to read his thoughts on his face, see him think, see him smile at him like that…  
  
 **Fact: Dean's so glad Sam can't see inside his head, he'd never get away with calling Sam a girl ever again.**  
  
"Hey, man, why didn't you wake me up?" Dean says.  
  
"You did wake up. Don't you remember?" Cas is frowning now, puzzled, and Dean wants to take a picture of every face Cas has ever made so he can remember, when he goes to California, because let's be real, they'd be crazy not to take him. He also kind of wants to hug him, but they're both in their pajamas and Dean's pretty sure that's considered weird by most people's standards.  
  
"No, not really...Gabe's making breakfast. Did you want any?"  
  
***  
  
Astrid doesn't stop talking from the second she walks through the door with a Box o' Joe in her arms, carrying it very carefully, because Uncle Sammy's carrying two more and doesn't have enough hands. She apparently didn't fill Cas in when she saw him the first time this morning, and Gabe's too nice to leave the table while she's talking, and Dean knows he's heard all this already, so they all sit around the table as Astrid recounts her adventures with Daddy, and being sick, and staying at home with Uncle Gabe and Balthazar while Daddy works, and Uncle Sammy packs for Connecticut because he has to visit Auntie Jess' family with her for Christmas. Cas just knows how to talk to her, it's crazy, and he asks questions that he knows she wants to tell him the answer to. Dean's already filled him in about the whole Lilith issue, and Astrid doesn't bring it up, so he doesn't ask about it.  
  
By the time the kitchen's cleaned up and put back in order and it's really more of an appropriate time to make lunch -- not that any of them are hungry -- Balthazar stumbles down the stairs in jeans and a sweater. He sort of nods at Cas in acknowledgement, and grunts something that sounds like a "hello" as he heads for the kitchen and returns ten minutes later with a cup of coffee that they all know is his second.  
  
Astrid is engrossed in the movie -- it's The Year Without Santa Claus, a classic -- and Dean, Cas, Sam, and Gabe end up in the kitchen to look for popcorn. Balthazar is sprawled on the couch next to Astrid, and seems just as enthralled with the movie as her. Dean thinks he didn't really have a childhood.  
  
"I need you to hide this," Sam says, pushing the ring box across the table to Dean.  
  
"Are you out of your mind?" Dean asks. Gabe plucks the box off the table before Dean can shove it back at Sam, and opens it.  
  
"Samsquatch, I don't think this is your brother's style," he says with a look of genuine innocence that he’s probably had perfected since elementary school. Sam snatches it back from him.  
  
"It's for Jess. I don't wanna bring it to Connecticut and have her find it when we're unpacking," he explains, holding it out to Dean.   
  
"Please? I'll take it back as soon as we get home."  
  
"I don't understand why you don't just propose," Cas says, getting another cup of coffee for himself, and glancing out the window at the gray skies overhead. Snow is promised by Christmas, but they're not exactly prepared to handle a full-on snowstorm. "You've had that ring since before Thanksgiving."  
  
"I just -- it hasn't been right. I'll know when it is, but it just hasn't felt right yet,"  
  
"So why are you giving this to me? Why not wait until the moment's right?" Dean asks, still not taking the ring.  
  
"Because it's not gonna happen in Connecticut. She'd kill me if I proposed there."  
  
 **Fact: Jessica hates Connecticut.**  
  
***  
  
Mary calls the day Sam leaves, and tells Cas that she and John will be coming up the day after Christmas and staying through New Year's, at the courtesy of Balthazar Milton. Cas knows nothing about that, so he and Dean corner Balthazar, who looks disgruntled.  
  
"Oh, for God's sake, I'm throwing a New Year's bash in Manhattan and it's over-twenty-one, and you're not missing it. Jesus, don't you read your emails?"  
  
 **Fact: Balthazar doesn't email.**  
  
Sam calls later, after dinner, and he sounds tired. Dean doesn't blame him: on the rare occasions Dean's met Jess' family, he was exhausted afterward. Jess loves her family, she does, but even she has a hard time putting up with them after so long.  
  
"Jeff's cool, I guess," Sam says, and Dean can hear the tired shrug in his voice. "He's Jess' brother, you've met him. Tall dude? Glasses? Nerdy in a not-Cas way?"  
  
"Yeah," Dean says even though he has no clue who he is.  
  
"Yeah, he's fine. Her aunts and uncles are all here and they're insisting on church on Christmas Eve and Day."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Jesus was born? I don't know, man, they're all crazy religious. I'm rooming with Jeff, for God's sake. Oh, shut up!" he half-whines, because now Dean's doubled over laughing.  
  
"Oh my g -- do they actually think -- oh, my god, thank you, Sam, I needed that," he says, wiping his eyes. "Do they know you guys are living together?"  
  
"They're under the impression that I live with you."  
  
"That's  _fantastic_."  
  
"Jerk.”  
  
"Bitch."  
  
***  
  
On Christmas Eve, Dean wakes up to Astrid's face pressed up close to his. It scares the shit out of him for a second.  
  
"Oh, my God, okay, new rule, 'Strid, don't do that, ever."  
  
"Uncle Gabe says we're going to the city today," she informs him. "Also, he hung a plant from the door in the kitchen, but he said not to tell you or Cas."  
  
"He hung -- oh, god. Okay. Are you hungry?" he asks, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. She shakes her head.  
  
"Balthazar and Uncle Gabe made breakfast."  
  
"Where's Cas?"  
  
"He just went downstairs," Dean stands up and Astrid takes his hand and drags him downstairs. "Uncle Gabe said to tell you that you probably don't wanna go in the kitchen for a while."  
  
***  
  
True to his word, Gabe makes everyone get dressed before noon, and drags them to the subway station. He won't tell anyone what his plans are, not even Cas who has the power to irritate the answer out of him at any given moment, but it hasn't worked this far, and probably won't. He and Astrid walk about six steps ahead of the rest of them on the sidewalk heading to the subway stop closest to their house. Cas is quiet. Balthazar complains it's too early, and demands a Starbucks stop as soon as they're in "civilization."  
  
 **Fact: Dean has no clue why Balthazar ever owned a house in Brooklyn.**  
  
Astrid makes a point of sitting between Dean and Cas on the subway. She doesn't actually have anything to say, for once, but she just wedges herself between them and rests her head against Cas' upper arm. She's getting taller, and she's almost a normal height for a six-and-a-half-year-old girl, Dean thinks. He's not exactly sure how tall they're supposed to be.  
  
Gabe ushers them onto the platform twenty minutes later and somehow Astrid gets caught between Dean and Cas even though Dean knows she got off first, with Gabe, and she's holding one of each of their hands as they walk up the stairs and onto the sidewalk into the chaos that is New York City on Christmas Eve. There are the Carrie Bradshaw types, talking on their iPhones as they nearly knock into Dean with all twenty shopping bags in their free hand; the frazzled twentysomethings shopping, very last-minute, for their parents (Dean's been there. He knows them from the looks on their faces); but then there are also groups of people like his: families, just out and about on Christmas Eve, even though they probably have better, less stressful things to do.  
  
"Miltons-plus-Winchester, come on!" Gabe waves a hand in the air, drawing attention to himself from all directions, and a path semi-clears itself on the sidewalk for them as Gabe practically struts down it. Dean's never been able to figure out why Gabe didn't move to New York, too, why he chose Portland-fucking-Maine, of all places.  
  
They eventually catch up to Gabe, and Astrid is still between Cas and Dean, swinging their hands in time with their steps. "Gabe, where the hell are you taking us?" Dean asks. It's cold and his words fog up the air in front of them and Astrid's too preoccupied exhaling loudly -- pretending to be a dragon, or something -- to tell Dean he owes the Jar a dollar.  
  
"It's a surprise!" Gabe half-sings over his shoulder. Christmas is his second-favorite holiday, after Halloween, and he gets way too into the Christmas Spirit when it comes around. Although, in years past, Anna had been the same way so it had been less unbearable.  
  
They turn on a corner, and there's a mass of people -- mostly tourists, Dean thinks -- standing outside Radio City Music Hall. Christmas music is pouring merrily out of speakers overhead, and Gabe shoots Dean a shit-eating grin as he pulls tickets out of his coat pocket.  
  
"You did not," Cas says, eyes huge.  
  
"Of course I did, Cas, it's me we're talking about. Okay, now move, get in line, before that family from Iowa runs us down."  
  
Balthazar looks -- there's really no words that do him justice, but Dean thinks the closest is disgust. He stuffs his hands a little tighter into his coat and shies away from small children in line around them. Astrid doesn't notice any of this. She's still clinging to Cas' and Dean's fingers, and she's got big wide eyes like she can't believe they're really here.  
  
Dean's never actually been to the Christmas Spectacular. He doesn't really like going into the city too often, and the show always struck him as touristy. Anna always talked about taking Astrid, but it never worked out.  
  
It's a good show, though. If he'd known that the Rockettes looked like that, he probably would've gone a long time ago. Not that he voices this out loud or anything. Astrid's got this look on her face that Dean remembers Sam wearing when he dragged him to the first Harry Potter movie premiere in Kansas a million years ago. It's wonder and magic, and it hurts Dean's chest just a little bit, because Anna never got to see it and he does, and it's not fair that he does and she doesn't.  
  
When the show is over, Gabe drags them down a few blocks into this little Irish bar and restaurant and they sit in a booth in the corner and Astrid talks nonstop about the show. Balthazar actually engages in the conversation, and it becomes clear to the other adults that he actually watched the show and didn't fall asleep like they'd all assumed he would. Cas has this small smile on his face as he watches the conversation, and the only thing missing is Sam and Jess, in Dean's mind.  
  
***  
  
They head home eventually, after Gabe drags them all over New York, and it's starting to get dark already because it's December. Astrid dozes against Dean on the subway and he ends up carrying her back home because she clings to him too tightly for him to wiggle out of her grip. Cas walks with them while Gabe and Balthazar are a few paces ahead.  
  
"Do you think she had fun?" Cas asks quietly after a moment.  
  
"Are you kidding? She probably thinks Christmas was today," Dean says. She stirs on his shoulder, but doesn't wake up, just buries her face into the scarf he's wearing that Anna made for him. "She's gonna sleep like the dead tonight."  
  
"How was she? While I was away, I mean." Dean thinks about it for a moment.  
  
"She stopped slipping up on my name after she got sick. It's like she forgot I have a first name. It's funny, I guess."  
  
 **Fact: Dean never knew how much he'd like being a dad.**  
  
"She seems happy."  
  
"She missed you a lot," Dean says. "She asked every day, when you were coming back. Asked me, asked Sam, asked Jess. She really missed you."  
  
 **Fact: They all did.**  
  
***  
  
Astrid goes right to bed when they get home. She wakes up long enough to get into pajamas and brush her teeth, but she's asleep the second she hits the pillow. Gabe and Balthazar are still up, watching some trashy reality TV because that's apparently how they bond. Gabe's texting Kali, whose flight got delayed because of some shitty snowstorm in Maine that's fucking with everyone's schedules.  
  
The Christmas tree in the back corner of the living room is strung up with lights and old ornaments from Cas and Anna's parents and a few from Dean and Sam's and paper ornaments made by Astrid at school in years past and present. There's a little stone statue of an angel that's covering its eyes -- Anna always said not to blink when you look at it, and Cas never understood that reference -- as the topper and tinsel fucking everywhere. Dean hates that shit.  
  
But Astrid thinks it's pretty, and wouldn't stop asking in the store when she saw it. Dean's kind of a sucker for her. He doesn't think he should be allowed to go shopping with her anymore. It never ends well.  
  
"So where'd you hide the presents?" Gabe asks as Dean finishes putting them under the tree.  
  
"Same place Anna always did. Basement. Astrid never goes down there," Dean says. Cas comes in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee, and looks over the tree.  
  
"What did you get her?"  
  
"Santa gave her two dolls, a dress-up set, and some drawing thing she wanted. I brought the list into the store and had an employee point me in the right direction," Dean shrugs. "I never could figure out how Anna did it. She found the perfect everything, every year, and it's like, you go into the store and there's like twenty different kinds of everything and if you buy the wrong kind, you get a miserable kid on Christmas."  
  
"That can't be true," Balthazar says, frowning at them. "I don't think you could disappoint that kid if you tried."  
  
"What?" Dean and Cas say it together, and they look at each other, slightly surprised.  
  
"She couldn't care less if you bought her the wrong brand of doll or whatever the hell it is she wants," Balthazar says, standing up and heading toward the kitchen, empty scotch glass in hand. "She's not a bratty kid. Believe me, _I_  was a bratty kid. She's not. She loves everything you put in front of her."  
  
"Except for vegetables," Gabe pipes up from the couch. Balthazar rolls his eyes.  
  
"You still hate vegetables," he says, and turns back to Cas and Dean. "You're doing fine as her dads. You won't fuck up."  
  
"I'm not her --" Cas starts to say, but Balthazar's already in the kitchen and not listening.  
  
 **Fact: He totally was.**  
  
***  
  
Astrid wakes up Dean first the next morning. She doesn't press her face up close to his like she had the day before, but instead crawls up behind him and jumps on his arm, scaring the shit out of him, again.  
  
"Christ, 'Strid, seriously?"  
  
"It's Christmas! Santa came!"  
  
"I don't know, kiddo, that stunt you just pulled…"  
  
"Daddy!" She swats his arm gently, laughing. He grins, sits up, lifts her across his lap and sets her down on the floor and gets up, too.  
  
"Go get Balthazar and Uncle Gabe, I'll get Cas," he tells her, and he goes next door and finds Cas asleep, face-down in his pillows.  
  
"Cas, get up," Dean says, shaking his shoulder. He grumbles, swats Dean's hand away, and shifts so half his face is exposed. He's got pillow lines criss-crossing his face, and Dean's totally not thinking about how cute that is. "C'mon, Cas, get up, I don't wanna have to get Astrid in here. She'll jump on you, and probably break something." Cas props himself up on his elbows, eyes blinking sleepily, and he frowns at him slightly. "Good morning, starshine. The earth says hello!"  
  
"You're so irritating," Cas mutters, half shoving Dean off the bed and getting out.  
  
"Merry Christmas to you, too."  
  
"Dean Winchester!" Balthazar shouts from across the hall, and then Gabe's cackling and Astrid's giggling.  
  
"Yeah, Merry Christmas," Cas says, and when Dean looks at him, he's smiling.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Balthazar's prediction was correct.**  
  
Astrid loves everything under the tree, and doesn't want to have breakfast once all the presents are opened, just wants to play with them for the rest of her life. Cas makes this face at Dean when he unwraps the Keurig and Dean feels himself blush and he shrugs, mutters something about not wanting to waste any more coffee beans.  
  
Sam and Jess call around two in the afternoon, just when the third snowfall of the season starts. Sam sounds exhausted, the way he did after midterms were done. Jess has that little lilt in her voice when she's trying to make the best of a situation, because she hates going home almost as much as Sam hates it.  
  
"We're coming back early," Sam tells Dean after Astrid goes back to her new dolls. "D'you think Balthazar will mind if we tag along for his party?" Dean glances over at Balthazar, who's on the phone, too, talking quietly, for once.  
  
"I'll ask him later. He'll probably be fine with it, it's Balthazar, the more people at his party the more fun he has."  
  
"He's not kissing either of us," Sam says flatly and Jess laughs.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'll tell you later. We gotta call Mom and Dad, haven't talked to them yet."  
  
"Get on that. She'll skin you if you don't."  
  
When he gets off the phone, Dean heads into the kitchen where Cas is cooking feverishly. He's wearing his apron, a dark blue one, and he's up to his elbows in flour and other things that Dean can't identify.  
  
"Need any help?" he offers even though he knows Cas won't accept his help.  
  
"If you come any closer, I'll hit you with a spatula," is the reply, and Dean takes a step back, hands up in surrender.  
  
"Just thought I'd ask."  
  
"Stay?" Cas says suddenly. "I need someone to talk to, it's so boring being the only one in here."  
  
 **Fact: When Anna was alive, she'd lurk in the kitchen and carry on long conversations with Cas while he cooked.**  
  
"What do you want to talk about?" Dean asks, hopping up on the one spot on the counter that's not being used.  
  
"I don't know, anything. What are we doing the rest of the week? What's Astrid's future look like, in your mind? Where do you see yourself in ten years?"  
  
"Dude, one question at a time."  
  
"What are we doing this week?" Dean blows a raspberry as he thinks, and Cas glances at him just for a second to give him glare.  
  
"I was thinking about maybe visiting Anna," Dean admits after a moment. Cas turns to look at him. "I don't know that I'd bring Astrid, but I figured I'd stop by, say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and all that." He shrugs.  
  
"Have you been to see her?"  
  
"Yeah, a couple times," he says, shrugging again. "Just to update her, you know?" Cas nods, turns back to the stove. Dean wonders if he's been to see her. He probably has. "I know that I really don't need to ask this, but do you wanna look over the adoption papers? Just, in case something's wrong with it or something, I don't really know what I'm looking for."  
  
"Astrid's adoption papers?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why? Shouldn't you ask Sam that?"  
  
"I don't know, man, I mean, we live together and she's kinda like your kid, too, and I feel kinda weird taking her from you and--"  
  
"Dean Winchester, do yourself a favor and shut up," Dean's jaw clicks shut and he looks at Cas, shocked. He's got his back to the stove for longer than fifteen seconds and Dean knows he's said something he shouldn't have when Cas does this. "You -- I just -- let's get one thing clear." He take a step closer and Dean wishes the counter was deeper because he's already got his head against the cabinet and there's no way for him to scoot away from Cas. "Adopting her does not in any way mean you're taking anything from me. You're not kicking me out of the house, right?" Dean nods. "You're signing a damned piece of paper that recognizes that in the event of a catastrophic event, you get the call, and if she breaks the law, you're the one that gets in trouble, until she turns eighteen. You've been her father since the day you moved in and if you think for a second that this piece of paper is suddenly turning you into one, you're an absolute moron. So no, you're not taking anything from me. There was never anything to take."  
  
***  
  
Dinner is a quieter affair than Dean thought it would be. Astrid keeps a conversation going, sure, but it's not quite the same. Cas seems to have worn himself out over his tirade earlier, and is behaving perfectly civilly to Dean. He lets Dean have the first slice of pie at dessert so Dean doesn't think he's mad at him.  
  
Bobby drops in during dessert and Astrid pleads with him to stay. Dean thinks she might have him wrapped around her finger tighter than she has Dean.  
  
After dinner, Gabe and Balthazar drag Astrid into the living room to watch A Christmas Story and It's A Wonderful Life back-to-back and she'll be exhausted tomorrow but they're classics and Dean can't really argue with them. Besides, it gives him time to look over the papers with Cas.  
  
"Sign here. And here. Initial there. No, not there, there. Okay. Good. I don't know why you don't trust Zachariah, he didn't screw you over, these are very legitimate."  
  
"He doesn't like me, Cas," Dean half-whines as he initials something else.  
  
"He doesn't like anyone, I don't know why you take it so personally," Cas says offhandedly, looking through the papers. "Okay, one more signature here, and you're done."  
  
 **Fact: On Christmas Day, Dean Winchester officially and legally becomes a father. It's one of the best days of his life.**

* * *

 **Fact: Mary and John arrive two days after Christmas and one day before Sam and Jess are due to arrive.**  
  
Cas has to work because the Met is cracking down on him for ditching them for so long (at least, that's Cas' story. Dean's pretty sure that that Crowley asshole is behind it), so it's just Astrid and Dean at the airport picking them up. Astrid talks nonstop to Mary about Christmas and how "Dean's my daddy now, he signed the papers and everything", and Dean waits until later, much later, when Cas is putting Astrid to bed and Gabe and Kali -- who arrived at the crack of dawn's ass the day after Christmas -- and Balthazar have gone to Balthazar's bachelor pad in the city to talk about it. John still hasn't said anything past "hello" to him.  
  
"It's getting processed now. Or, I guess, it will," Dean says, uncapping two beers and sliding one to John across the table. "Zachariah, their family lawyer, is handling it."  
  
"Which one is he?" Mary asks, resting her head on clasped fingers as she watches Dean with a slightly confused expression, trying to remember.  
  
"Bald on top, weird nose, kinda smirky?" Dean says, holding a hand up to about Zachariah's height. "Yea tall?"  
  
"I believe he was the one that commented on your tie at Anna's graduation, John," Cas says, walking into the kitchen with an empty glass and setting it down in the sink. "And then proceeded to carry on a conversation with you for an insufferable amount of time."  
  
"Is she asleep?" Dean asks.  
  
"Out like a light. The past few days have been a lot for her," Cas says, leaning up against the counter next to him.  
  
"You're telling me," Dean says, taking a pull from the beer bottle.  
  
"So, Cas, how's the job hunt going?" Mary asks, her mom smile in place.  
  
"I haven't heard anything back yet, but they were just going on break when I left. I was told not to expect anything until mid January at the earliest," Cas says.  
  
"Was it a nice campus?"  
  
"We were there, Mom, Sammy looked there when he was college shopping," Dean says, half whining. Mary shoots him a look, telling him to shut up now, and to stop being a baby about everything.  
  
"It was warm. The campus was lovely. It's not New York, of course, but it manages."  
  
 **Fact: Dean spends way too much time trying to figure out what Cas meant.**  
  
***  
  
The next day, Astrid announces that she wants to go to the park, never mind the fact that it snowed on Christmas and it's even colder than usual, and begs Dean to take her and Jesse, who called that morning to ask if she wanted to play. Mrs. Turner is having a shit-ton of family over for the holidays and Dean gets the feeling from Mr. Turner -- otherwise known as Paul to the rest of humanity -- that they're a little burned out and their son isn't helping matters.  
  
"John, why don't you go with them?" Mary suggests after Dean gets off the phone and confirms that Jesse will be right over.  
  
"What?" John says, looks vaguely horrified and/or disgusted by the idea.  
  
"Yeah, fresh air, park bench, you should be all about that. It's your duty as Grandpa," Mary tells him. "You can stop for coffee somewhere, and kick at pigeons, and make faces at people. Be an old grump. It'll be fun."  
  
"Y'know, the longer we stay together, the less likely we are to stay alive," he tells her, standing up from his beloved newspaper and kissing her lightly. "Okay, I'll go."  
  
***  
  
Astrid and Jesse look like marshmallows, all puffy jackets and covered in snow. The Brooklyn Bridge Park is pretty empty, probably because no one really wants to stick around Brooklyn Heights for the holidays. A few people are walking dogs or jogging or whatever but they really don't see many people. John and Dean sit on a bench a little ways away, keeping an eye on the kids, and drinking too-hot coffee to battle the too-cold air.  
  
"So, you're a dad," John says eventually.  
  
 **Fact: It's the first time he's ever acknowledged it to him.**  
  
"Not officially, yet, but by her birthday for sure, yeah," Dean stammers out. He's not sure where this conversation's headed, possibly to the ‘Dad, I have something to tell you’ place it went when he was seventeen. He really hopes it doesn't, though.  
  
"Well, either way, congrats, son. Although it was a bit unconventional."  
  
"Dad, there's nothing conventional about our situation," Dean points out. John huffs a laugh.  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he says, looking down at his coffee cup, and then up when Astrid shrieks and starts laughing because Jesse face-planted in the snow. "So, what's the plan with her? Single dad thing? Or is there a mom in the works?"  
  
"She said she doesn't want another mom," Dean says, watching Astrid make a snowball and throw it at Jesse's chest where it explodes and coats him in another layer of snow. "She already had one, and she doesn't wanna replace her." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees John nod. "But, um, she knows. About me. Cas, too."  
  
"Huh," is all John says, and they fall into an awkward silence for a while, watching Astrid and Jesse have a snowball fight, and then give up, and start making snow angels.  
  
There's so much Dean wants to say to him. Ask him what's so damn hard about accepting the fact that his son could potentially marry a man, that his granddaughter could be raised by two men -- not that she wasn't before, but to be fair, she also had Anna --  
  
"She seems happy," John says finally.  
  
"She is, I think," Dean replies. Neither one is looking at each other.  
  
"Well, then, you're doing your job."  
  
***  
  
When they get back, Sam is face-down on the couch and Jess is helping Mary make soup in the kitchen, and Astrid pounces on Sam, still red-faced and skin cold from the snow despite the fact that Dean pumped the heater up to tropical temperatures for the three-minute ride home. Jesse follows shyly behind her, unsure what the proper protocol is when your best friend jumps on her uncle.  
  
"Hey, you survived!" Dean says as he presses a kiss to Jess' cheek and then his mother's. "But not my brother, I saw."  
  
"He's a little fried," Jess says. "There's only so much of my brother you can take."  
  
"How was the park?" Mary asks, stepping to the side so Dean can get six soup bowls out.  
  
"Cold. Snowy. 'Strid and Jesse had a good time," Dean says, unstacking the bowls and setting them out in a line for Mary. "Hey, I gotta run a couple errands, do you guys need anything?" Mary and Jess exchange a look. Jess makes that duck/thinking face she makes a lot and shakes her head.  
  
"No, but you're out of chicken soup and hot chocolate," Mary says. "And milk."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Anna."  
  
The snow is cleared on the path but of course they didn't bury Anna anywhere near it. Dean's boots are snow-darkened and his jacket's pulled a little tighter around himself. With one sleeve, he brushes some of the snow off her headstone so he can sit without soaking through his clothes. He leans up against the headstone, as if it were the counter in their kitchen and he was talking to her while she made lunch or something, and he was just catching her up on what she missed while she was out.  
  
"I, uh, adopted her. Hope you don't mind," he says, looking at the ground. "'Course, if you did, you probably wouldn't have left her to me, right? Well, me and Cas. Still don't know what you were thinking. 'Specially since he's leaving." He winces at the thought. "Well, not officially, but Anna, you know him. He's a fucking genius, they'd be crazy not to wanna hire him." The cemetery is silent: the birds are gone, and there's no one around. It's the holidays, though: who'd want to be in a cemetery?  
  
"Sammy still hasn't asked Jess. Makes me wish you were around, you would've clocked him by now, told him to man up and ask her. 'Cept he'd probably listen to you more than me and Cas and Gabe. Dumbass doesn't realize she's not going anywhere.  
  
"You remember my dad, and all our shit, right? I think -- Anna, I think he's happy for me," He almost smiles at that. "I can't remember the last time he was, but I think he is. He loves Astrid. I mean, you knew that, but he really does. I don't think I ever really realized how into the Grandpa thing he was."  
  
He pats the headstone once. "That's all, I guess. Good talking, Anna. See you around."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean does not want to go to Balthazar's party.**  
  
He hates them. He hates very few things in this world -- nineties music, Eurotrash cars, and flying are pretty high up on the list -- but Balthazar's parties just might be at the top of the list. To be fair, he only has his New Year's party in New York. His birthday parties ("Isn't he a little old to be having birthday parties?") are always destination parties, and the parties that he throws "for the hell of it" are wherever he is, and that's never New York.  
  
They're not the kind of parties he can wear a suit to, but Cas tells him to wear his Thanksgiving tie with the dark blue shirt that Anna gave him for his birthday last year. Astrid pads in and out of his room and Cas', plopping on their respective beds and watching them get ready. She tilts her head to the side as Dean starts tying his tie.  
  
"Who's throwing a party again?" she asks. Dean looks at her in the mirror.  
  
"Balthazar. It's that big party in the city that lasts until really late and Uncle Gabe always tries to set me up with a girl," Astrid frowns.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"'Cause your Uncle Gabe's a jerk," Dean says, smirking to himself a little. "Uncle Sammy and Auntie Jess go, too."  
  
"But not Grandma and Grandpa."  
  
"Nope, they're staying with you, and’ll probably keep you up way too late."  
  
"We gotta stay up till midnight!" she says indignantly. "It's the rule!"  
  
"Not for a six-year-old."  
  
"I'm six and a  _half_ , Daddy," she says, rolling her eyes and hopping off his bed. "You look really handsome. So does Cas." And with that, she's gone.  
  
***  
  
Sam and Jess are downstairs when Dean finally gives up on trying something different with his hair -- because he will get shit about it from Gabe and Balthazar -- and goes down into the kitchen. Mary's cooking, which she always does when she visits because she's convinced they don't have enough premade food. Anna always appreciated it because she was always so busy with work and Astrid, and Cas was sometimes late and couldn't make dinner. He still is now, of course, but Dean's getting better at cooking.  
  
"Hey," Dean nods at them, as he moves around Mary to get to the fridge.  
  
"Damn, Winchester," Jess says, smirking slightly. "Who cleaned you up?"  
  
"You know, contrary to popular belief, I can look good when I so choose," he tells her. "I don't need you or my mother to pick out my clothes."  
  
"No, but Cas did," Astrid says, padding into the kitchen on the balls of her bare feet. Sam snorts.  
  
"Traitor," Dean mutters. "Where is he, anyway?"  
  
"Upstairs. His phone rang and he started having an adult conversation and it got boring," Astrid says, shrugging and plopping down in her kitchen chair. "Grandma, what's for dinner?"  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: The University of California, San Diego wants to hire Castiel.**  
  
He's sitting on his bed, shirt buttoned wrong, phone pressed tightly between his hands. He never thought they'd decide so quickly, never thought that the biggest decision of his adult life -- to date -- would come so much sooner than anticipated.  
  
But here it is, staring at him square in the face.  
  
Of course, they were lovely about it. The old professor would still be around for the rest of the winter quarter and would be there to help him, but after spring break it would be all on him. They understood that he needed time to think it over, of course, but they'd need an answer soon. As in, before January fifteenth.  
  
Cas doesn't want to think about this. Doesn't want the uncomfortable conversation during which Dean will tell him it's a great opportunity, and smile, but look dead in the eyes for days afterward. Doesn't want to pack up his life and move across the country, to a state where he knows no one and doesn't have the support system he's had for nearly seven years.  
  
"Cas? You ready? Sam and Jess are here, they wanna head over before traffic gets really shitty," Dean calls up the stairs, and then Cas hears a squeal from Astrid, and Dean grumbling about putting a dollar in the jar.  
  
Yeah, he doesn't want to leave this.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Balthazar is not a patient person.**  
  
He, of course, is already at the venue, lounging at one of the circular tables and lazily watching the caterers rush about, getting everything set for when the guests start to arrive. Gabe strolls in and plops down on a seat at the table and leans an elbow onto it, and fixes Balthazar with one of his I'm-going-to-raise-hell-and-you're-gonna-help-me looks.  
  
"What is it this time?" Balthazar asks, exasperated, checking the time on his watch.  
  
"Cassy and Deano."  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"They're still skirting around each other like it's fucking seventh grade, that's what!" Balthazar rolls his eyes.  
  
"That's not exactly breaking news, Gabriel." Gabe makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.  
  
"Dude, they need to get together, like, now, otherwise Sam wins the bet! I can't lose to a  _moose!_ " He sounds horrified by the prospect.  
  
"What were the terms again?" Balthazar asks, because really, he never pays attention when they're talking.  
  
"Samsquatch says before Astrid turns seven but after Dean's birthday, I said before Dean's birthday, and Anna said after Astrid's birthday."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, my brother, and his sister's daughter's adopted father need to know each other. Biblically," Gabe says as Balthazar rolls his eyes, gets up and starts looking for his phone in his jacket to see if anyone's emailed him something more important than his cousin's sex life. Gabe springs up and bounces next to him, practically hanging off his arm like the giant man-child that he is.  
  
"If I recall correctly, they already do."  
  
"They said they don't remember it."  
  
"Oh, bullshit. Anna said Dean winced the next day when he sat down. No one forgets a night that leave you like that."  
  
"So, what, they're pretending they don't remember?"  
  
"Obviously." It's so hard being the brains of the family.  
  
"This is an open bar, right?" Gabe says suddenly. Balthazar side-eyes him, but nods. "Perfect. I have a plan."  
  
"I'm assuming it involves a lot of booze, your brother, and Dean Winchester,"  
  
"You wanna hear it?"  
  
"Of course, who do you think I am?"  
  
***  
  
The traffic is already shitty when they leave, and Dean kind of wants to just drive off the Brooklyn Bridge and pilot his car like a fucking submarine because at this point, that's faster. Cas is riding shotgun and fiddling with his phone, but angling it in such a way Dean can't see what he's doing, and it's too careful to just be coincidence.  
  
By the time they finally get to the parking lot, they're an hour late and Balthazar's already sent three nasty texts to Cas, Dean, and Sam demanding to know where the actual fuck they were. Dean barely has time to give his standard break-my-Baby-and-I'll-break-you glare to the valet before Sam is dragging him up the ramp and onto the sidewalk.  
  
Jess' heels click rhythmically on the cold concrete and around them are lots of people wrapped in blankets and making their way to Time Square. Why they parked all the way over here, Dean doesn't know, but he almost gets knocked over by some guy from Wisconsin, and it doesn't help his mood at all.  
  
Inside, the party is already in full-swing. Some band is playing in the corner, a steady bass line pulsating in the floor and everyone looks like Balthazar's people: rich socialites with too much time on their hands.  
  
"Winchesters!" They turn around and Gabe is launching himself at them, one arm around Sam and one around Dean, and they stumble backward and try to compensate for the extra hundred-forty-odd pounds of Gabe.  
  
"Holy-- are you drunk?" Sam asks once Gabe is back on the ground and not attached to their necks. Gabe pauses and seriously ponders the question.  
  
"Nope, not yet. Cassy, Balthie's looking for you," he says suddenly. Cas frowns, but Gabe makes a shooing motion with his hand, and Cas goes off to find Balthazar. "Okay, who's designated driver?"  
  
"Sam," Dean says before he or Jess can interject. Sam makes an outraged noise.  
  
"Perfect. C'mon, I need someone to spot me," He grabs Dean's arm and drags him off to the bar, leaving Jess and Sam alone.  
  
"I hate my brother," Sam mutters. Jess laughs and kisses him lightly before taking his hand and pulling him toward Kali, who is halfway across the room chatting with someone who looks suspiciously like a Trump.  
  
***  
  
"So," Gabe says, sitting down at a table with Dean. They're two shots, one beer, and a double-old-fashioned-glass-of-whiskey into the party and well on their way to wasted.  
  
"So?" Dean repeats, making it a question.  
  
"I assume you're aware of Balthazar's party rules," he says, and Dean groans.  
  
"Dude, I'm not kissing you while your wife's here."  
  
"Are you saying you would if she wasn't?" Gabe says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Dean rolls his eyes.  
  
"No, asshole, but especially not with Kali here. She'd rip my balls off with her bare hands," Gabe chuckles and nods in agreement.  
  
"So who you gonna kiss?"  
  
"Can't I just hide in the bathroom until after midnight?"  
  
"Nope. I'll rat you out."  
  
"You're a jerk, you know that?"  
  
***  
  
"Cas, I know you're not the DD, just take the shot or so help me God --"  
  
"Okay, fine!" Cas throws the shot back so quickly Balthazar almost misses it. He swallows and fixes Balthazar with an irritated expression. "Are you happy now?"  
  
"I will be when you're hung over," Balthazar says, waving at the bartender.  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"No, you don't. What's wrong?" Cas freezes.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're miserable, and not your normal, I-hate-parties-why-am-I-here miserable. Was your boyfriend sleeping with someone else?"  
  
"I don't have a boyfriend," Balthazar rolls his eyes.  
  
"It was an expression, dumbass."  
  
"Oh," He falls silent. Balthazar waits a whole ten seconds before --  
  
" _Well?!_ "  
  
"It's nothing, Balthazar," he says, and the bartender slides them two more shots. "I'm not drinking that."  
  
"Your tolerance is sky-high, Cas, you won't even feel it and you know it. Now, drink up," Cas sighs and resigns himself to the shot. "Are you gonna tell me or do I have to wait until you're so wasted you can't see straight?"  
  
"I got the job," he mutters, barely audible, but Balthazar hears him.  
  
"The job?"  
  
"In California."  
  
***  
  
"Listen, man, all I'm saying is that if he does take the job, you're gonna be going it alone for a while. That house is huge, and I don't hafta be at the Portland office."  
  
"Gabe, I'll be fine. I was fine when he was touring Cali," Dean insists.  
  
"Yeah, for what, two weeks?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
 **Fact: Gabe's plan is working perfectly.**  
  
Gabe knows he's probably drunk, but if he's probably drunk, then Dean is definitely drunk, and if Dean's definitely drunk, then Cas is already halfway there (stupid kid got the high-tolerance genes). It's already a quarter past nine and all they need to do next is get them together and make sure they don't leave each other before midnight.  
  
His phone vibrates in his pants pocket, and he checks it under the table.  
  
 _C almost drunk. how about yrs?_  
  
Gabe smirks, and replies:  
  
 _without a doubt. IOU dinner for this_  
  
"Okay, dude, whatever. Just know that Anna's kid isn't gonna be an angel forever. God knows Anna wasn't."  
  
***  
  
"But are you going to take it?" Balthazar asks, waving the bartender over to get something that's not shots because they could use a break.  
  
"I don't know. I can't leave Astrid and Dean, and they won't want to move, not while she's in school and Sam and Jess are here."  
  
"Dean  _is_ a bit codependent on his brother, isn't he?" Balthazar says, spotting Dean and Gabe across the room.  
  
"They were all each other had in Kansas. I don't blame them," Cas says, shrugging. "They're a bit like Anna and I, actually." Balthazar looks at him. "Anna was the first person I came out to. Sam was Dean's. Sam kept it a secret until he was ready, as did Anna for me."  
  
Balthazar watches him. "You miss her a lot."  
  
"Too much," Cas says, smiling, but it's not happy.  
  
"Well, fuck, you  _would_ be a sad drunk, wouldn't you," Balthazar mutters, and the bartender slides them two beers. "C'mon, Cassy, think happy thoughts. It's New Year's Eve, and you're gonna kiss someone if it kills me."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Sam is not happy.**  
  
He and Jess found a table and are sitting down. Jess is nursing a Cape Cod (cranberry juice, vodka, with a lime wedge), and Sam? Sam is drinking a fucking lemon-lime seltzer. He can see Cas at the bar with Balthazar throwing back shots like a champ, but now it looks like they're taking a beer break. Dean's across the room at a table with Gabe and they seem to be discussing the psychology of Norman Bates or something, judging from the looks on their faces. There are a few empty beer bottles and glasses on the table between them.  
  
"I think Gabe's up to something," Sam says. Jess looks at him, then at Gabriel.  
  
"What makes you say that?" Jess asks.  
  
"He deliberately split up Dean and Cas, and Dean's drunk. Cas is, too, probably, and he's with Balthazar at the bar over there," he says, pointing at Cas. Jess looks over at them.  
  
"So?"  
  
"He's gonna win the bet," Sam says suddenly, eyes wide. "Holy shit, he planned this, he's gonna win the bet!" Jess rolls her eyes.  
  
"I can't believe that's still going."  
  
"It will keep going until they get their heads out of their asses, and get together!"  
  
"I think you're a little too invested in your brother's love life."  
  
***  
  
"Okay, are we all having fun?"  
  
Eleven-thirty is Balthazar's standard speech time at his New Year's Eve parties. People are on the dance floor, at tables, at the bar, but everyone pays attention when he gets up on the stage. The crowd cheers and Balthazar grins.  
  
"Perfect. We are currently twenty nine minutes and fifteen seconds from the new year, so I'll just take this time to remind everyone of the rules. Number one: at midnight you must kiss someone. I don't care who it is, how long you kiss, or really anything else. Number two: it's a lip-lock, people. None of this cheek bullshit, we're all grownups. Number three: if you don't kiss someone, you will be assigned one of my cousins next year. The ones who aren't here now. They're buzzkills. I don't want to invite them, so just kiss someone, okay? Can we get the countdown screened on the wall over there?"  
  
He gets off the stage, and the band starts up again, but now on the opposite wall there's a projection of what looks like Carson Daly's New Year's Eve show. Balthazar moves through the crowd easily and finds Cas, still sitting at the bar with a glass of water in an attempt to sober up.  
  
"Oh, come on," Balthazar says, jerking Cas out of his seat and dragging him across the room.  
  
"What? Can't I just --"  
  
"Nope, come on, we're finding you someone to kiss."  
  
***  
  
Gabe sees Balthazar pulling Cas over and jumps up. Dean jerks back, surprised.  
  
"'Sup?" he asks, slurry and totally wasted.  
  
"Come on, Deano, let's find you someone to kiss," Dean groans, and Gabe rolls his eyes and pulls him up. His phone vibrates again.  
  
 _putting C on the dance floor. crowded and hard to move away from people._  
  
Gabe looks up, catches Balthazar's eye, and grins. Balthazar smirks back and nods.  
  
"C'mon, lots of pretty people on the dance floor for you to pick from," Gabe says, leading him toward the dance floor.  
  
***  
  
"I can't fucking believe it!" Sam says, watching Gabe and Balthazar lead Dean and Cas toward the dance floor.  
  
"Does it really matter if you lose?" Jess asks. "I mean, your brother'll be happy, either way."  
  
"It's not about Dean, it's about my pride!" Jess rolls her eyes.  
  
"Babe, it's a good thing you're cute, because you're pretty dumb sometimes."  
  
***  
  
"Okay, you stay here while I find a pretty blonde or something," Gabe says, and disappears. Dean starts to call after him but gives up because the music is too loud. He glances at the countdown. Ten minutes to go.  
  
"Dean?" He turns. Cas is standing there, looking dazed.  
  
"Hey, Cas, what's up?" he says, the words heavy on his tongue. He's totally drunk, and the lighting makes Cas look good, even though his shirt is a bit rumpled and his tie is backwards.  
  
***  
  
"And now we watch," Gabe says, hiding behind a pillar and watching Dean and Cas talk.  
  
"Do you feel a bit like a voyeur right now?" Balthazar asks. Gabe shrugs.  
  
"I used to spy on Anna's dates in high school. I stopped feeling creepy long ago."  
  
"What the actual hell are you doing?" Sam and Jess are behind them. Jess has her arms crossed and does not look happy.  
  
"We were just --"  
  
"The next time you try and get my brother and your brother together and don't tell me, I'll put laxatives in your chocolate, we clear?" Sam asks, hiding behind the pillar and watching them. Balthazar and Gabe look at Jess. She shrugs.  
  
"He's scared he'll lose the bet," is all she says, and joins them.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: It's one minute to midnight and Cas' lips look really good.**  
  
They're just talking. Dean's not entirely sure what about, but they are and Cas looks better and better with every passing second. Around them, people are starting to count down and Gabe still isn't back with a girl, and he doesn't know what to do because if he doesn't kiss someone, Michael or somebody equally scary will have to kiss him next year and he really doesn't want to because Michael perved on him for like three hours the last time they saw each other and that was just weird.  
  
"Thirty seconds," Dean says, trying to laugh and not sound nervous.  
  
"I have to tell you something," Cas says, and it almost gets lost because everyone's counting louder and louder.  
  
"Yeah, what?" Dean asks at twenty-three seconds. Cas tries to respond but it gets lost, so Dean shouts, "What?" at seventeen. Cas tries again but the counting has reached a fever pitch and it's five seconds and Dean still can't hear, but he thinks he heard California, before everyone screams, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" and Dean panics and grabs Cas' face and kisses him then and there.  
  
 **Fact: Cas kisses back.  
  
**


	14. Thirteen

  
**Fact: Cas has blowjob lips.**  
  
It becomes even more evident as they slide up and down Dean's cock, but it's something Dean thinks he's always subconsciously known. Back in Kansas, though, Dean was the one with cock-sucking lips; at least that's what he was told in bathroom stalls at bars, because there was no fucking way he was taking or going home with his hookups.  
  
Every now and then, Cas looks up at him through thick eyelashes and Dean can't keep his gaze because he  _will_  come if he does. Cas eventually pulls off and kisses up Dean's stomach and chest and to his collarbone, one hand on both their cocks, and bites at the skin between his shoulder and neck. Between that, the wet slide of skin all over, and Cas' hand, Dean's two seconds away from coming.  
  
Until he wakes up.  
  
 **Fact: This has been Dean's life for the past week.**  
  
He woke up on New Year's Day in his own bed, alone, with a killer hangover. He texted Gabe a death threat for letting him get so drunk the night before, and stumbled into the kitchen to find some coffee, and greasy breakfast food. He found Cas slumped over on the couch, clearly having attempted to make it to the kitchen and failed. Mary was already up, making coffee with Cas' new Keurig.  
  
"Sam picked up Astrid this morning," Mary said quietly as she brews a cup for Dean. "Something about you and Cas being too hungover for a six-year-old."  
  
"Six and a half," Dean said automatically. Mary smiled.  
  
***  
  
Everything seemed okay, minus the pounding headaches and nausea, but it wasn't until he was brushing his teeth that Dean actually remembered what happened the night before.  
  
 **Fact: At first, he was just impressed that he remembered at all.**  
  
He burst into Cas' room. Cas was sitting on his bed, cross-legged, in pajamas. He looked up, startled, at Dean.  
  
"Do you remember anything about last night?" Cas frowned, head tilted.  
  
"No, why?"  
  
***  
  
The sex dreams started that night, and Dean's been a combination of sexually frustrated, agitated, and conflicted all week. It's not easier with Astrid off from school because she, like her mother, notices everything and keeps asking what Daddy's mad at. Cas just gives him odd looks.  
  
Mary and John leave the Wednesday after New Year's, and all three of them see them off at LaGuardia. John hugs Astrid, and claps a hand on Dean's shoulder with a smile that Dean hasn't seen since he was seventeen. Mary hugs them, and threatens them with mortal injury if they don't call.  
  
"We have to talk about something," Cas says as they're driving back to the brownstone. Astrid's quiet in the back seat, like she always is after someone leaves.  
  
"With her or…?" Dean asks.  
  
"When we get back."  
  
"Okay," Dean says, casting a sideways glance at him. "Everything okay?" Cas doesn't answer.  
  
***  
  
Astrid disappears upstairs as soon as they're home and Dean and Cas go into the kitchen. Dean takes his seat on the counter, head against cabinets, arms loosely crossed.  
  
"Okay, what's up?"  
  
"UCSD called," he says, and Dean's stomach drops a little.  
  
"What did they say?" Dean forces himself to ask because he's not sure he wants the answer.  
  
"I got the job," he says, and Cas looks incredulous, like he can't believe he actually got the job, like he was certain they'd give it to someone, anyone, who wasn't him.  
  
"Congrats, man!" Dean says, smiling. It's the same smile when Sam got into Stamford, his other top choice, back when Sam was certain he wouldn't get into Columbia. Cas smiles back, much smaller and much more guarded. "When do they want you?"  
  
"That's what I wanted to talk about," Cas says, arms crossing over himself and Dean gets…concerned. Because Cas should be thrilled. He should be doing cartwheels around the fucking room, for God's sake. It's what he's worked on for what, two, three months now? But he's not, he looks serious. And not the kind of serious he is with Dean, or Astrid, or even Anna, when she was alive. It's the scary serious, the kind he wears after a bad day at the Met. The only time Dean ever remembers that look was when they first found out Anna was pregnant.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know that taking the job would be the smartest thing for me to do at the moment," Cas says carefully, like each word is hand-picked. Dean frowns.  
  
"Why wouldn't it be?" Cas looks at the floor for a second.  
  
"I'm in the middle of preparing an exhibition, Dean. I can't abandon them at this stage, especially since we're nearly done, and --"  
  
"Cas, when you applied for the job, you knew you'd have to leave in the middle of the project," Dean says, because this doesn't add up. Cas doesn't not think things through like this. He plans everything. Dean's never seen him unprepared for anything, although he's looking forward to Cas dealing with a teenage Astrid.  
  
"I -- I know that, Dean, but I guess I only just realized…" he trails off, his voice kind of raising, like it's meant to be a question.  
  
"So what's the matter, then? No bullshit, just tell me!" The kitchen goes quiet. Dean watches Cas, who watches the floor.  
  
"I don't know if I can leave Anna."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: After a long conversation with Cas, Dean goes to Sam's apartment.**  
  
Dean was the first person to get a copy of their key and Jess barely glances at him when he walks in.  
  
"Hey," she says from the tiny extension of their counter, where she's leaned up against, reading a magazine.  
  
"Is Sam home?"  
  
"Nice to see you, too," she says, glancing up at him and smirking slightly. "He's in our room, what's up?"  
  
"I gotta talk to him about something," Dean says, and maybe he feels bad about being short with her, but it's important. "Sam?" He half-knocks on the door. Sam's sitting on his and Jess' bed, cross-legged, writing what's probably an essay on his laptop.  
  
"Working," he says, eyes never leaving the screen.  
  
"No, Sammy, this is important, law school can wait for a second," Dean says. Sam side-eyes him, but he closes his laptop.  
  
"You have my undivided attention for exactly seven minutes. Start talking."  
  
And Dean does. He tells Sam all about Cas getting the job, about how Cas doesn't want to go, how Cas is crazy not to want to go, how Anna herself would've wanted it, but she's the only reason Cas is giving for not going. Dean talks for a solid three minutes before Sam stops him.  
  
"Dude, why are you even pushing for this in the first place?" Dean stares at him incredulously. "I mean, yeah, I'm happy for him, but he'd be moving all the way across the country. That'll suck."  
  
"Sam, he's always wanted to try teaching, ever since he got out of college. There's an opportunity staring him in the face and he's not taking it."  
  
"Did you just use a word bigger than three syllables?"  
  
"Shut up," Dean shoves at him. Sam smiles, but becomes serious again.  
  
"Dean, he's gonna do what he wants. Maybe it's not the end of the world if he doesn't take the job."  
  
***  
  
Dean hasn't seen Ellen in a while. Cas usually takes Astrid on Saturdays and Dean schedules when he can, but between going to Kansas and Mary and John being home, he hasn't had time to go. He finally scheduled something with her, and earns himself a smirk from Jo the next day at the garage.  
  
Ellen sits in her chair across from him, leg crossed over the other, and notepad in her lap. Dean wonders if she actually takes notes, or just doodles and writes, like, grocery lists or something. Being a therapist seems like a shitty job.  
  
"So, Astrid tells me you're her Daddy now," she says, smiling. Dean nods. Maybe this won't be like pulling teeth.  
  
"Not officially, but it should be by her birthday."  
  
"All the paperwork is done?"  
  
"Yeah, just waiting for it to get approved. We have to talk to a social worker, I think, and then she's ou--mine," he says, catching himself. Ellen cocks an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.  
  
"How were the holidays, then? Since you adopted her?"  
  
"Nothing really changed. My parents came up after Christmas. Sam and Jess went to her family in Connecticut. Cas came home Christmas Eve, from the school in California."  
  
"He mentioned that, yes," she says. "He said you were pushing for him to go."  
  
"When you put it like that, it makes me sound like I hate him," Dean says, and Ellen sits up a little.  
  
"And you don't?"  
  
"Of course not!" Dean says, outraged. "I just -- I want the best for him."  
  
"Because he's your friend," she reasons.  
  
"My best friend," Dean agrees, nodding.  
  
"Tell me about New Year's," Ellen says suddenly. Dean stares at her.  
  
"Uh, Cas' cousin, Balthazar, threw a party. Cas' brother, Gabe, got me wasted. I woke up the next morning with a headache the size of Alaska, and I found Cas passed out on our couch because he couldn't make it to the kitchen,"  
  
"How was the party?"  
  
"Full of socialites and snotty rich people. Clones of Balthazar, really." Ellen smiles.  
  
"And Cas?"  
  
"Balthazar got him wasted, I assume. I don't really remember much," Dean lies. "Sam was DD, so he didn't drink. He's still pissed about that, I think."  
  
"So what happened that night?"  
  
 **Fact: Dean would rather crash his Impala, repeatedly, than answer that question.**  
  
"I don't --" Ellen fixes him with a look, the kind that Mary gave him all the time when he was a teenager, trying -- and failing -- to talk himself out of trouble. "Cas and I might have, sorta, kissed." he mumbles.  
  
"So what are you going to do?" Dean looks at her. "Dean, he's your best friend. You both have a history together, one that, when we first met, you both claimed was dead. Clearly, it's not." Dean looks at the floor. "You just need to figure out what you're going to do next."  
  
"He's leaving, Ellen. There's nothing to do. He's going to California."  
  
"He's not so sure anymore, and you know that." Dean looks at her suddenly, the pieces clicking.  
  
"Wait, is he -- did he say he's not going because of me?"  
  
***  
  
 _I just can't look, it's killing me, and taking control…_  
  
Dean goes home, head spinning, guilt pooling in his stomach, and angry at the radio. Cas  _can't_ stay, not if the only reason he is, is because Dean kissed him.  _It was only a kiss, how did it end up like this?_  He punches the dial roughly, changing to a country station singing about fried chicken and beer on Friday nights.  
  
Dean parks the Impala and half-runs inside. He can hear Astrid and Castiel talking, and for a second it almost sounds like the way it was before Anna died. He heads to the kitchen, and finds Astrid sitting on the counter, holding a cookbook open in her lap for Cas to read.  
  
"Hi, Daddy! We're making stroganoff," Astrid says brightly, waving but stopping quickly to keep the book from falling.  
  
"Hey, 'Strid," he says, pressing a kiss to her temple and looking at the pots on the stove. "Need any help?"  
  
"No, we're good," Cas says. "How was Ellen?"  
  
"Fine. We, uh," he leans in, voice drops so Astrid can't hear, "We gotta talk."  
  
***  
  
It isn't until Astrid is bathed, and in bed, that Dean gets enough time to talk to him.  
  
"Ellen told me that you're not sure if you wanna go to UCSD because of me," Dean starts, and Cas jolts, as if shocked.  
  
"That's not -- I have other reasons," he says, but he's not very convincing.  
  
"Do you remember New Year's? Be honest, Cas, do you remember?" Cas drops his gaze. "Son of a bitch."  
  
"What, did you think I wouldn't?"  
  
"You were wasted, dude," Dean says, like it's a valid explanation because Dean was just as drunk.  
  
"Dean, I do not just forget things like that."  
  
"If it's keeping you here, maybe you should," Dean says, and pretends it doesn't hurt to say it. Cas tilts his head, brow furrowed, not understanding. "If that hadn't happened, if we had made out with, like, a couple blondes on the dance floor, would you be having all these second thoughts about going?"  
  
 **Fact: He would.**  
  
"No," Cas says. It's a lie. Dean doesn't know, though, so he nods.  
  
"Cas, I'm not gonna make you stay here if it's something you wanna do. If that's what you want, then I'll back your play."  
  
Cas looks like he could cry, but he nods, thanks Dean, and goes upstairs. Dean sits alone on the couch and fails to feign an interest in the football game.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: That night is the first night Dean doesn't have a sex dream about Cas.**  
  
He finds himself driving in Brooklyn Heights in the summer. He ends up at the park that he and John took Astrid and Jesse to last week. He parks in the little parking lot next to it, and gets out. He starts walking toward the park, but then he hears his name being called, and looks over.  
  
Cas is sitting under a tree, with a picnic blanket, and Astrid is with him. She's handing Cas food items out of Anna's milk crate, the one she used to carry her director stuff in on the subway to and from the theater every day for rehearsals. She squeals when she sees him ("Daddy!"), throws her arms around his waist and he laughs, patting her back and steadying himself when she nearly knocks him over. He drops down and sits next to Cas, and they accidentally knock knees, when he crosses them under himself. Astrid settles into Dean's lap, starts chattering about her adventures in arriving here with Papa ( _Papa?_ ), and Cas hands Dean a soda can. Their fingers brush as the can switches hands -- Dean notices a ring, _his_  ring, on Cas' hand -- and Cas leans in, and their lips just brush --  
  
Dean wakes up in tears and he doesn't know why.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Cas asks Dean to help explain to Astrid why he's moving out.


	15. Fourteen

  
"Could you sign these, please?"  
  
Cas is leaving in three weeks. He's sitting at the kitchen table with paperwork strewn around him, and he's holding a pen out to Dean.  
  
"What is it?" he asks, leaning over Cas' shoulder to read what he's signing.  
  
"Deed to the brownstone," Cas says casually. "Balthazar signed it over to me when he gave it as a graduation present. Since I'm leaving, it's probably best that you own it, legally." Something drops in Dean's stomach at the mention of leaving, and owning the house legally, but he scrawls his name across the dotted line, and Cas hums his approval.  
  
Astrid is actively avoiding them. She cried when they told her Cas was leaving. She then refused to leave his side except for school for a week, and now she's not speaking to either of them. Ellen told them not to worry, it was just a phase, she's trying to deal with it, if she stops eating or something, give her a call. Dean wonders what "or something" means.  
  
Cas' plane ticket is pinned under a magnet on the refrigerator, out of Astrid's reach because she's already tried to throw it away. Dean secretly thinks she had the right idea.  
  
 **Fact: So does Cas.**  
  
Dean glances at it as he opens the fridge and grabs two beers. The date, the Friday of Presidents' Weekend, glares at him, and Dean kind of hates irony. That holiday never held any real significance in Dean's life until Anna and Cas, when he visited them two years in a row, when he and Sammy got their first New York Winter and saw the first pictures of Astrid.  
  
The holiday (is it even a real holiday? He gets work off, sure, but the mail still comes, right?) that brought him to them is taking what's left of them away.  
  
Dean shakes his head, tries not to be a fucking girl anymore, and hands Cas a beer.  
  
***  
  
Sam picks up Astrid from school the next day, his classes having finished early and they stop by the garage, where Dean's busy fixing up some British chick's car.  
  
"Need a hand?" Sam asks.  
  
"Unless Bobby just hired you, no," Dean says, sliding out from under the car on the scooter and waving a wrench at him. "Bobby gets pissy when non-employees help out." Astrid doesn't say anything, not even a reminder to put a dollar in the jar when they get home.  
  
"Hey, Dean, do you have -- oh, hi, Astrid!" Astrid smiles at Jo, who beams. "You wanna help me with this car? I think your Daddy and Uncle wanna talk." Astrid looks at them, and goes to follow Jo into her workspace. Within five seconds, they hear Astrid chattering away.  
  
"She still not talking to you?" Sam asks, leaning up against Dean's tool trolley. Dean shrugs, stands up and puts the wrench away.  
  
"She acknowledged my existence this morning. I count that as a win," Sam almost laughs.  
  
"How's Cas doing?"  
  
"The Met is weeping for his loss," Dean says sarcastically. "He had me sign the deed to the house yesterday. I'm a fucking grownup, dude. I have a kid that's mine in every way except biologically, I've got a house that's mine, a real job…I think I'm gonna vomit."  
  
"Whatever you say, Peter Pan," Sam says, rolling his eyes. "How's Cas doing?"  
  
"He refuses to take any of the furniture with him," Dean grumbles. "Like, flat-out, tells me to shut up if I bring it up. He's taking some stuff from his room, like his desk and bookshelf and shit, but he's planning on buying everything out there."  
  
"He was a trust fund baby," Sam reasons. Dean glares at him. "Well, it's true. And his parents are in his pocket. How else do you think Astrid's going to that school? Anna sure as hell wasn't paying for that on a director's paycheck." Dean knows all this already. He gets a vague email from time to time asking for updates about Eve and Charles Milton's only grandchild, who, despite their efforts to keep her in the best Catholic School available to a first grader, they have no apparent interest in meeting.  
  
 **Fact: None of the other Milton children, even Luci, with all his sketchy Facebook updates and string of one-night stands that refuse to stop calling (at least, that's why he claimed his phone kept going off during Anna's graduation), have had children.**  
  
"His parents feel guilty for all their lost time, but don't wanna put the effort into seeking him out and trying to be a family," Dean says. "Why else do you think Mom basically adopted them the second she lay eyes on them?"  
  
***  
  
Cas is leaving in two weeks, and he's already started shipping things.  
  
The brownstone is full of boxes, mostly of books, but a few have clothes in them. Dean and Cas are slowly and carefully going through their closets, picking out things that belong to the other, and returning them. Cas insisted. He said he'd feel bad if he accidentally stole one of Dean's shirts.  
  
 **Fact: Neither one of them touch Anna's closet, which has remained unchanged since May.**  
  
Astrid has started talking to Dean again, but is careful that she doesn't say a word to Cas. Dean tries to reason with her, but logic doesn't really work well on a six-year-old.  
  
"Perhaps it's for the best," Cas says one night, after she's gone to bed after barely hugging him goodnight and saying a full, "Goodnight, Daddy!" to Dean.  
  
"What?"  
  
"She's distancing herself from me now, so it won't be so different when I'm gone," Cas says as if it's obvious, which, Dean realizes too late, it totally is. "Smart one."  
  
"Dude, you can't -- that's totally not how to handle something like this," Dean says, indignant. Cas raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Dean, if you found out that Sam was going to move across the country, and probably never move back, and you'd only see him on special occasions, would you want to spend as much time with him as possible and deal with missing him to the point where you're very nearly physically sick? Because I know you and your brother, and that's what would happen, or would you try to distance yourself so it doesn't hurt so much when he's really and truly gone?" Dean glares at him.  
  
"Dude, it's not the same. I'm not six. I'm a grown man. I can make time to see Sammy if I damn well please."  
  
"She can't, Dean. That's what I'm trying to explain. She can't afford to miss me too much. She already misses Anna."  
  
"Yeah, and you're just the icing on the fucking grief cake, huh?" Dean says, and Cas starts to argue, but Dean's already halfway up the stairs and not listening.  
  
***  
  
Cas doesn't say a word to him the next morning when they're moving around each other in the kitchen, Dean trying to make some kind of breakfast for Astrid, and Cas trying to refill his travel mug because he's already downed his first cup.  
  
"Daddy, is Cas mad at me?" Astrid asks in the car on their way to school. Dean stops the car, and turns around to look at her.  
  
"Why would you think that, baby girl?" She shrugs.  
  
"'Cause he looks sad all the time."  
  
"Maybe if you'd talk to him, he'd feel better," Dean says, but he doubts it. Astrid considers this.  
  
"I don't want him to go, Daddy," she says as he starts driving again.  
  
"Neither do I, kiddo, neither do I."  
  
***  
  
Cas is leaving in nine days. There's a knock on Dean's bedroom door. He knows it's Cas, because Astrid never knocks.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Cas comes in, sheepish, and in a Columbia T-shirt and polar bear pajama pants.  
  
"We haven't been speaking," Cas says.  
  
"No shit," Cas gives him an exasperated look. "I'm sorry."  
  
"As am I."  
  
"You shouldn't be apologizing, Cas, I'm the one who blew up at you. It's just that I'm -- we're gonna miss you, dude," Dean says. "Astrid, maybe more than me. Maybe." Cas almost smiles.  
  
"She's taken this very hard. She's talking to me again, though."  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yes, we had a long conversation about California, and she's decided that it's okay if I live there if she gets to visit often." Dean laughs.  
  
"You didn't explain to her the concept of airfare, I'm guessing."  
  
"Money is not an object in her world," Cas says, nodding. "However, her spring break is, and it's in a month. I imagine you'd like to not stay in Brooklyn for that."  
  
"Dude, you'll have just moved in, your place'll be, like, trashed, you'll be teaching, you don't want me and her crashing at your apartment, or whatever and keeping you away from work and --"  
  
"Dean, shut up. I've already told her about it, so good luck explaining that away."  
  
 **Fact: Cas is sometimes an asshole, and always the best.**  
  
***  
  
Cas is leaving in three days, and Astrid is having nightmares again.  
  
She's flown a grand total of two times in her entire life. Dean's fear of planes and airfare to Kansas and Maine being nothing short of ridiculous have kept her safely grounded, and in the Impala's back seat for most of her life, and as long as Dean's her father, that's how it'll stay. But five days before Cas leaves, she starts waking up and creeping into Dean's room, asking if she can stay with him because he keeps the bad dreams away. Dean asks if they're really bad, like after Mommy died, and she says no, but they still scare her and can she please stay here?  
  
Dean's not about to say no to those blue eyes.  
  
But three days before, she wakes up in a terror, crying and doesn't even have to shake Dean awake for him to wake up. He, being barely awake, is proud of the fact that he gets into an upright position as quickly as he does, and has her in his arms before she even tells him what's wrong. She never does, though, because she falls asleep like that and Dean has to ease her onto the bed and what has become "her side" so that he can go to sleep himself. The next morning, when he asks, she refuses until he threatens to take her to Ellen instead of school, and she confesses: "You and Cas were going on the plane to California, and the plane crashed."  
  
Dean lets her stay home from school.  
  
***  
  
The day Cas leaves, Dean loads up the Impala with the last of Cas' suitcases, the ones he didn't ship, and he, Astrid and Cas go to the airport. Cas checks all his baggage and Dean and Astrid stand behind him, Astrid clinging to Dean's hand like it's keeping her alive. They walk him up to the security checkpoint and he faces them, expression unreadable.  
  
"I'll see you both soon," he tells them, very seriously. He kneels down by Astrid. "It's okay, sweetheart, you don't need to cry," Dean hears him say, and his head snaps down to look at her. Sure enough, tears are rolling down her cheeks and she sniffles, nodding at Cas. She lets go of Dean's hand and throws her arms around Cas' neck, and he's startled but hugs her back.  
  
 **Fact: Dean doesn't see his face break as he hugs her.**  
  
"Be good for your Daddy, yes?" he tells her, and she nods. He stands up and looks at Dean. He holds out a hand and Dean almost scowls at him.  
  
"Dude, seriously?" Cas shrugs. Dean rolls his eyes and hugs him around the shoulders. Cas is too stunned to hug back, but the look on his face when Dean lets go says the sentiment is returned. "Call me when you land, okay?" Cas smiles, nods, and bends down to hug Astrid one more time, kisses the side of her head, and heads to the security checkpoint.  
  
As they leave, Astrid manages to stop crying. They walk back to the car, and sit in it for a moment. Dean turns around and looks at her.  
"What do you wanna do now?"  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Astrid chooses to visit Anna.**  
  
She's been a couple times since they buried her. Not as much as Dean (or Cas, but Dean doesn't actually know how often he goes. Went.), but a few times. Astrid makes him bring a plastic mat and she sits down in front of the headstone, and just talks. She talks all about how Lilith's been better, and how she and Jesse really want to go to Six Flags, but it's February and they can't. She talks about how Daddy almost set the curtains on fire yesterday trying to make eggs. She talks about visiting Cas during spring break and how she wonders if California's any better than New York.  
  
In Dean's mind, it's sort of like hell.  
  
She falls silent for a while, and Dean thinks she might be done, but then she turns to him and asks, "Can we sing happy birthday to her?"


	16. Fifteen

The first few weeks are hard.  
  
Dean's now officially a single parent. He always was, he guesses, but Cas was sort of a second parent. It's somehow quieter in the house, now, even though Cas never really made much noise to begin with. Dean burns almost every meal he tries to cook the first week, and Jess ends up coming over with tupperwares of food to last until the apocalypse. Astrid is quiet the first week, but by week two she's almost completely back to herself, save for rushing to the phone every time it rings.  
  
Cas calls once a day, without fail, exactly right as Dean's getting ready to wash the dishes from dinner. Astrid talks his ear off first, since Dean's hands are soapy and wet, but Astrid reaches up on her tippy-toes to sandwich the phone between his shoulder and ear so they can talk.  
  
 **Fact: Cas loves California.**  
  
He goes on and on about how the weather's always nice, and how the people are just fantastic, and Dean I know I never say things like this but you should see the  _men_ here, oh my god. He loves teaching, and the students are just so smart it blows his mind daily. He almost wishes he went to school there instead of Columbia. Dean just smiles into the phone, and lets him rave.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Cas hates California.**  
  
It's easy enough to pretend, over the phone, when he's talking to Dean, because Dean's just so damn happy for him it just feeds his energy, and all of a sudden he's like a walking advertisement for San Diego, when in reality Cas is pretty sure this is what hell is like.  
  
Nothing he's told Dean is a lie, though. The people are nice (and good-looking), the weather's fantastic, and the students are great. He loves teaching. But San Diego is not New York. He almost misses nearly getting knocked over while walking on the sidewalk, and jaywalking because he knows he can get away with it, even when he had Astrid clinging to his hand (not that that ever happened or anything. Don't tell Dean). Here, people will run you down if you jaywalk, and everyone's just so damn nice. It makes Cas wonder if they're all hiding something, like they put cyanide in his water supply just for him, or something.  
  
When he calls Brooklyn, he almost feels at home. Astrid goes on and on about what she's been doing, and when he talks to Dean, he doesn't feel like he's alone. Which he does, in his tiny apartment that he's tried so hard to make it feel like home. But then sometimes he feels sick to his stomach, when he calls Dean and Astrid. They have lives without him, now. Astrid's going to school every day, and playing with her friends and being a kid, and Dean's working and raising a child, and being eternally frustrated at Sam for not proposing to Jessica yet.  
  
It's exactly one month, two weeks, and three days since Cas moved away.  
  
He decides not to call.  
  
***  
  
Dean's finishing fixing up that Robinson chick's car when his phone goes off in his coveralls pocket. He's got it out, lightning-fast, pressed up to his ear under the car.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Mr. Winchester?" He exhales slowly, disappointed.  
  
"Yeah, that's me."  
  
"You're listed as the primary contact for Astrid Milton here at St. Peter's. I'm calling to let you know that Astrid needs to be picked up early today." Dean wheels himself out from under the car.  
  
"Everything okay?"  
  
"She was in a fight earlier." Dean stops.  
  
"She's six."  
  
"Well, yes, but she's currently sitting in the principal's office, and needs to be picked up," the woman is short with him. Dean kind of hates the admissions people at Astrid's school. But St. Peter's is the best elementary school in the area, and it's being paid for. Dean still hates it.  
  
"I'll be right there," he says, and hangs up. He trudges over to Bobby's office.  
  
"Yeah, boy?" Bobby says without even looking up.  
  
"Can I go get Astrid?" Bobby glances up at him.  
  
"Sure. You alright, Dean?"  
  
"Fine, fine," he mutters, waving a hand and turning around to head for his car.  
  
***  
  
Astrid's uniform is damp in some spots and her hair, once the best French braid Dean's ever done (shut up, Jess keeps sending him links to hair tutorials), is now a half-braided mess. At this point, he's considering making her cut it, but that's an argument for another day.  
  
"What happened?" Dean asks, noticing Jesse's hair is snow-soaked and Lilith is sitting there, cheeks red, probably from the cold, and another boy, with a pretty dark-haired woman who must be his mother, is there, too, looking just as disheveled as the others. He looks a bit older, Dean thinks, and wonders how he got involved.  
  
"Astrid and Jesse and Lilith were on the playground --" the principal starts, but is cut off because --  
  
"I'll tell you what happened," Lilith's mother stands up and marches right up to Dean. "Your niece attacked my daughter! It's the third time this year I've had trouble from her, and --"  
  
"I'm sorry,  _Astrid_ attacked  _your_ kid? Lady, your precious gift from God has been tormenting my kid ever since school started and she found out her mom died, like it's some kind of joke that happened, or something. Honestly, I don't think this school's done enough to help her, and sure as hell hasn't done anything about your kid's issues with tormenting other children, so I can't say I'm impressed," he snaps at her, and he knows Astrid's watching him with wide eyes. Somewhere, in the back of Dean's mind, he realizes that this is the first time she's ever seen him angry like this. "And for the record, she's my daughter. Astrid, come on." The principal is watching this exchange, half in awe. Dean turns to him. "I'll be in touch." And with that, he's gone, Astrid in hand. Once they get to the vestibule, he tugs her coat on her and kneels down to her level.  
  
"You okay, kiddo?" he asks her, brushing a chunk of hair out of her face and looking her over. She shrugs. "What happened?"  
  
"Lilith said she heard about Cas leaving, and she said that he was gonna get mugged in San Diego, and Jesse said it wasn't true and Lilith's a -- I'm not allowed to say what he called her."  
  
"For the purposes of this story, you can say it, and I won't make you put a dollar in the jar," Dean says, taking her backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. His seventeen-year-old self cackles at the image of Dean, twenty-nine, and clad in jeans and a leather jacket, with a Little Mermaid backpack slung over one shoulder and a six-almost-seven-year-old in hand.  
  
"He called her a bitch-head," she says, and Dean claps his free hand to his mouth so he doesn't laugh. "And then she said she was gonna tell, but Jesse said he'd tell the teacher what she said about Cas and then she tried to hit him, but he got out of the way so she started chasing him and then he ran into Ben Braeden, and he got mad because he's a third grader and he turned on Jesse but then Lilith caught up and then Ben turned on Lilith and she threw a snowball at him 'cept it had a rock in it, and then they both started chasing her and she ran into me and knocked us both into a big snow pile, and Jesse and Ben followed and landed on us 'cause they tripped, and then the teacher found us and we got in trouble and Lilith said me and Jesse started it and everyone's parents got called."  
  
"Take a breath," Dean says, because she was talking a mile a minute. She does. "Okay. First: Cas is okay, you know that, right?" Better to nip the nightmares in the bud than have them at all. She nods. "Good. Second: you are never allowed to say bitch-head, or any variation thereof, again. I don't care if Jesse says it, you're not allowed, capisce?"  
  
"Capisce," she repeats, very seriously.  
  
"Third: do you want to go to another school next year?" She looks at him with wide eyes. "Because if Lilith's still being mean to you by the end of the year, you can go to another school where people are nicer."  
  
"But what about Jesse?" she asks.  
  
"I'm asking about you, kiddo," he says. She shrugs. "Okay. You wanna go to the garage?"  
  
***  
  
They stop by the house first, and get a change of clothes for Astrid, and then they go back. Bobby shoots Dean a semi-concerned look that Dean shrugs off. Astrid seats herself on a stool in Dean's workspace, right next to the tool trolley and passes tools to Dean as he requests them.  
  
"I'm looking for Dean Winchester?" Dean leans around the divider and sees the pretty brunette who had been with the older boy -- Ben Braeden? -- talking to Rufus. Rufus waves a wrench in Dean's general direction. Mrs. Braeden looks a little wary, but when she sees Dean she practically marches across the garage. He pretends not to notice Jo staring.  
  
 **Fact: Mrs. Braeden is a babe.**  
  
She's too young to have a kid Astrid's age, let alone one a few years older. She's prettier than most of the moms he's seen, but then again, he hasn't seen too many. He's the only single dad he knows at St. Peter's.  
  
"Dean Winchester?"  
  
"Yeah, that's me."  
  
"I'm Lisa Braeden. My son, Ben, was involved in the incident today," she says, holding out a hand. Dean wipes his off on a towel and shakes hers.  
  
"Yeah, 'Strid was just telling me. You got a great kid, from the sound of it." She beams.  
  
"The best," she agrees. "I just wanted to say that I was impressed."  
  
"Impressed?"  
  
"I've been meaning to tell off Linda Freemont for years," she says, and Dean's surprised. "Her children are the terrors of that school. I don't know how they haven't been asked to leave yet."  
  
"No clue," Dean agrees.  
  
"Nadine Turner mentioned that you recently became a single parent," she says. "I'm sorry to hear that."  
  
"Oh, it's not like that," Dean says quickly. "My, uh, my friend moved out a month ago. He'd been helping me with Astrid since her mother died." Lisa's face falls. "It's complicated, she and I aren't actually related, it's a bit of a long story, really."  
  
"I understand," Lisa says, and it's that tight smile Dean's been getting lately from women -- and men, but that's a whole other story -- that means he's lost them and he might as well just give up. "Well, I have to go pick up Ben. I'll see you around."  
  
"Sure," he says, and she's already walking out. "Damn."  
  
"Daddy, that's a bad word."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Cas doesn't call that night.**  
  
Astrid doesn't say anything about it, but Dean can tell it's eating at her. Dean just tells her he called him before and he said he was really busy but he missed her. It seems to do the trick because she goes to bed no problem. Dean cleans up the kitchen, and stays up late waiting for the phone to ring.  
  
It never does.  
  
Dean decides that he was probably just really busy grading or something and tries not to lose sleep over it. Tomorrow is another day and he'll probably call then. Besides, Cas doesn't owe them anything. Of course not. He doesn't have to call every day if he doesn't want to. Cas is twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine, for god's sake. Dean's over-thinking everything.  
  
The next day, Dean starts looking at tickets for San Diego. He hates flying but according to Google Maps, it's a forty-one hour drive and Astrid most definitely would not do well on a road trip that long. He sends Cas a text asking what days worked for him to have them come out. Cas replies almost immediately with a list, and no explanation why he didn't call last night.  
  
It's not bothering Dean at all.  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Cas isn't all that interested in calling Dean again today, either.**  
  
He knows, somewhere in his mind, that it's a shitty thing to do to them, especially Astrid, but he can't bring himself to listen to their lives three thousand miles away, and know that he really doesn't have a place in them anymore. Sam texts him a lot, with updates about Astrid and Dean, and Cas finds out that Astrid was in another fight with Lilith Freemont and Dean's considering changing schools next year. He also finds out that Dean can't get a date if his life depended on it. Cas can't decide if he's happy about that or if he pities him for it.  
  
It's been three days since Cas called. He decides not to call again.  
  
 **Fact: So begins the beginning of the end.**  
  
***  
  
Cas doesn't call and it's starting to get to Dean.  
  
He texts him, sure, and Cas' responses are immediate and grammatically correct and perfect. The man just won't call the damn house phone, or Dean's cell phone, or anyone on the east coast. Gabe even called last week asking if Cas was okay.  
  
It's been three weeks and Dean hasn't heard Cas' voice, and it pisses him off more than it should.  
  
Astrid hasn't asked about Cas in ten days. She knows something's up but doesn't acknowledge it. Dean doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. He tries to think of what Anna would've done and he comes up with squat.  
  
 **Fact: Dean's starting to question Anna's judgment about leaving her child in Dean's not-so-capable hands.**  
  
It's three weeks and two days since Cas last called and Dean's had enough. Sam and Jess took Astrid out this morning to go into the city and buy some Easter candy. Dean dials Cas' number and waits.  
  
He picks up on the second ring.  
  
"Hello?" He sounds distracted, but Dean knows he saw the caller ID. He always checks it before picking up.  
  
"Cas, I know you know it's me," Dean says, trying not to sound angry in the first ten seconds.  
  
"Hello, Dean," he says patiently. "You never gave me a date for when you and Astrid are coming out here."  
  
"We're not," Dean says. Silence on Cas' end. "It didn't work out like I thought it would, and our host never got back to me."  
  
"I always got back to you."  
  
"Yeah, in three-word text messages and that’s not what we needed."  
  
"So what did you need? Please, enlighten me."  
  
"Gee, I don't know, how about my best friend and my daughter's uncle? God dammit, Cas, you've been ignoring us for almost a month, what the hell is going on out there?"  
  
"I have a job, Dean, I can't afford to sit by the phone and wait for people to call me or to call them back. I told you that this was going to be more demanding than the museum job," Cas sounds almost condescending, and that's something he's never sounded when he talked to Dean.  
  
"Don't make me out to sound like an idiot, Cas, I've been busy, too. Busy raising your niece and keeping her at bay and making sure she knows that you haven't completely abandoned us out in California!"  
  
"I never abandoned anyone! I'm three thousand miles away, and I'm busy, and you two aren't even coming out here anymore!"  
  
"Yes, because you made it clear you didn't want us to!"  
  
"I never said that!"  
  
"You sure as hell implied it! You didn't call, for three fucking weeks! What the hell am I supposed to think, that all of a sudden we'll be best friends again because we're face-to-face? We did the long-distance-friendship thing for two years until me and Sammy moved in and we were  closer than we were to anyone in our real lives who weren't family!" It's silent on both ends for a moment. "Actions speak louder than words, Castiel."  
  
 **Fact: Dean never uses Cas' real name.**  
  
"You made it clear the first week you didn't call we weren't part of your new life. Thanks for confirming it."  
  
"Dean, I never wanted --"  
  
"Yeah, me neither, Cas. See you around," Dean hangs up and slumps back on the couch.  
  
***  
  
When Astrid comes home a couple hours later with bags filled with marshmallow Peeps and chocolate, it's not hard to put on his game face and pretend like everything's okay, even if Sam and Jess see that it's not. Sam doesn't question him on it, though. At least, not yet.  
After they leave, Dean reheats some of Jess' chicken noodle soup on the stove and Astrid goes upstairs to take a shower. Dean's just ladling the soup out into bowls when the doorbell rings. It's six-fifteen, a Saturday night, and no one they know rings the doorbell anymore, not even the Turners. Dean opens the door to find a scruffy, dark haired guy with watery blue eyes standing there.  
  
"Hi," he says. He looks a little confused.  
  
"Can I help you?" Dean asks, figuring this guy's lost or something.  
  
"Yeah, I'm looking for Anna Milton. Does she still live here? My name's Chuck, I'm an old friend."


	17. Sixteen

**Fact: Dean never thought he'd show up again.**  
  
He left in Anna's sophomore year of college, no new address, no phone number, nothing. Anna had been bitter, at first, but as soon as Astrid was born she never said a bad thing about him. When Astrid had questions, Anna was honest, explained that her daddy was never her real daddy and she didn't need him. Astrid had never pushed the subject past that, seemed to understand that her father, whoever he was, was really as unimportant as Anna said he was.  
  
But now he's standing in front of Dean with this goddamn hopeful expression and Dean doesn't know what to do.  
  
"A-Anna?" he chokes out, and Chuck's face falls a bit.  
  
"Yeah, Anna Milton. She does still live here, right?"  
  
"Dude, Anna -- Anna died, like, almost a year ago." Was it really a year? Dean shakes off the disbelief. For now. Chuck's face falls all the way and something like guilt and regret takes its place.  
  
"Oh. Oh, my god, I'm so sorry, I never heard."  
  
"'S fine. Come in," Dean says, and doesn't know why he's inviting this near-stranger, the real father to the little girl he's been raising for the past almost seven years, because yes, he's started counting them, too. He watched her walk for the first time, say her first words, go to her first day of school and call in sick when Anna cried. Maybe they were a little married, now that he thinks about it, like those guys on that show Anna liked that's like Grey's Anatomy except no one's hot and it's not a trainwreck.  
  
Astrid's upstairs getting on pajamas, or something so maybe he has enough time to get rid of Chuck, and not have that awkward, "by the way, dude, your dead ex-girlfriend had a baby, but I adopted her" conversation which he's not even sure would go well.  
  
"We should probably talk in the kitchen," Dean hears himself say, and starts heading to the back, carefully taking out his phone and sending a text to Sam to get here now. He hears Chuck following him, hears the pause in his footsteps every time he stops to look at pictures on the walls.  
  
"When did she die?" he asks once they're standing opposite each other in the kitchen.  
  
"Almost a year ago, actually," Dean says, and that's when it hits him: they've been living without Anna for almost a full year. Chuck looks shaken.  
  
"Wow," he says, almost in awe. "Were you -- ?"  
  
"No, just a friend. Me and my brother moved up here a few years back, and moved in with her and Cas," Dean says easily, wondering why he's spilling his life story to the biological father of his child, and the man who abandoned one of his best friends.  
  
"How was she? I always felt so guilty for losing contact with her. She wanted to be an actor, last I remember."  
  
"She was directing. At this little theatre in the East Village. It was a dream come true for her."  
  
"Directing?"  
  
"It wasn't easy," Dean says, willing himself to shut up but he won't. "She went days without sleeping, sometimes, and she hated firing actors when she needed to."  
He hears footsteps on the stairs overhead. Chuck jolts. Dean doesn't move fast enough, can't get to the stairs in time to send Astrid back upstairs: she's standing in front of them, huge grin in place that falters when she sees Chuck.  
  
"I thought you were Uncle Sammy," she says, surprised, and Dean doesn't even tell her that it's rude to say things like that. He's too dumbstruck by the fact that Astrid looks just like Chuck. Dean had always thought she looked like Cas, with her blue eyes and dark hair, but now, with the two presented in front of him side-by-side, Astrid is truly Chuck Shurley's daughter. Their hair almost exactly matches, and their eyes are the same blue.  
  
"Astrid, this is a friend of your mom's, Chuck," Dean says, jolting back to planet earth. He can feel Chuck's stare on him, flickering between him, and the little girl in front of them. "They went to school together." She tilts her head, taking him in.  
  
"What's he doing here?"  
  
"Astrid," Dean warns.  
  
"I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd visit," he says.  
  
"You didn't come for her funeral," Astrid points out.  
  
"Okay, 'Strid, why don't you go pick out a movie? Let Uncle Sammy in when he gets here," he ushers her out, and decides that this is what Nani felt like in that one scene with Cobra Bubbles i  _Lilo and Stitch_.  
  
 **Fact: Dean has watched way too many Disney movies for a man his age.**  
  
"I had no idea she died. You have to believe me, I would've been here the second I heard," Chuck says as soon as Astrid's gone.  
  
"Yeah," Dean says, but doesn't believe him. Chuck seems to notice, but doesn't say.  
  
"So, is she yours, or --"  
  
"The adoption papers are almost completed. She will be by the end of the month," Dean says, carefully avoiding what he was getting at. "Anna made me and Cas her guardians."  
  
"Where is Cas?"  
  
"He moved away about two months ago,"  
  
"Oh," he says. They fall silent. "How old is she?"  
  
"Nearly seven," Dean says. They fall silent again, and this time, Dean knows he's calculating, and he starts preparing himself for the question.  
  
"Nearly seven?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"You're adopting her, you said. Where's her father, if he's not in the picture?" The question is awkward, and the words are spaced out, stilted.  
  
"He left Anna before she found out," Dean says, not even trying to be subtle. "Didn't tell her where he was going, didn't leave any way for her to contact him, just dropped off the map. He could've been dead, for all she knew. So she raised the baby on her own with absolutely no help from that jackass, and maybe that's for the best, because she's the best kid in the world and doesn't deserve a father who left her and her mother because he was bored."  
  
Chuck seems to have shrunk four inches.  
  
"I understand," he says. "I'll just go, then."  
  
"Yeah," Dean huffs, and heads for the door. "Say goodbye to Chuck, Astrid."  
  
"Bye," Astrid says, half paying attention. Chuck stares at her for a moment, and then leaves without another word. He nearly runs into Sam on the stairs. Sam shoots Dean a questioning look, but Dean shrugs it off.  
  
"Hi, Uncle Sammy!" Astrid says as Dean closes the door behind him, and sees Chuck glance at the house one last time.  
  
"Hey, 'Strid, what's the movie tonight?"  
  
"Tangled!"  
  
"Again?" Dean half-groans.  
  
"Daddy, it's my favorite," Astrid tells him, like he's being silly instead of whiney.  
  
"Who was that?" Sam asks Dean.  
  
"His name was Chuck," Astrid says before Dean can answer. Sam's eyes get huge.  
  
"Like, the Chuck?" he stage-whispers.  
  
"Let's talk in the kitchen, I gotta get the soup," He half-drags Sam by his shirt into the kitchen.  
  
"Chuck, as in, Astrid's birth father who ditched Anna was here?" he says as soon as they're in the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah," Dean mutters.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Looking for Anna, I don't know," Dean shrugs.  
  
"Does he know about Astrid?"  
  
"He does now."  
  
"He knows? Like h  _knows_ -knows?"  
  
"Jesus, Sam, yes! He knows!"  
  
"Does he wanna, like, talk to her or something?"  
  
"Well, judging from the way he just booked it outta here, I'd say no," Sam bitchfaces at him but Dean doesn’t care.  
  
"Well, he might."  
  
"Well, he doesn't get to," Dean says. "He made his decision a long time ago." He hands Sam a mug of soup and goes back into the living room and settles on the couch next to Astrid and hands her a mug. "Don't spill, kiddo."  
  
***  
  
"So have you talked to Cas?"  
  
It's two days after the freak visit from Chuck. Two days after the biggest argument Dean's ever had with Cas.  
  
"Yeah, he called the day Chuck came by," Dean says.  
  
"How was that?" Sam asks, leaning up against Dean's desk at the garage.  
  
"He hasn't called again. Don't think I'd pick up, either."  
  
"Why the hell not?"  
  
"Because he's made his choice, too, Sam. He moved away, stopped calling, and I'm not an idiot. I know when I'm not needed. He sure as hell doesn't need me calling him ragging on and on about my life   
here when he's trying to start over across the country."  
  
"You two are -- are best friends!" Sam's argument stutters midway through the sentence, and Dean would ask, except he doesn't like where this conversation's gone, and he doesn't care.  
  
"Yeah, and he can find a new one out there," Dean says. "Pass me the sixteenth-inch socket."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean Winchester and Castiel Milton have reached a new level of stupidity in Sam's book.**  
  
Cas stops texting him the day after Chuck appears and disappears. He lets it go, for about a week, gets fed up, and calls.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"What the hell, man?" Sam demands. "I get it, you're pissed at Dean, but don't take it out on me."  
  
"I'm not pissed at Dean," Cas protests, albeit weakly.  
  
"So why haven't you been talking to him? He said you guys had an argument, but being the emotionally constipated human being we all know and tolerate, he's not talking about it."  
  
"I --" Cas stops, and Sam can hear him take a breath on the other end. "It's been…difficult, living out here."  
  
"Why, is your tan not bronze enough?"  
  
"No, Sam, I just can't adjust, I guess," Cas admits. "San Diego is not New York, and it sure as hell isn't Brooklyn."  
  
"But you like it, right? The job and the people and everything?"  
  
"I suppose," Cas sighs.  
  
"You're not very convincing," Sam says, and now he's worried, because a week ago, Cas would've talked his ear off about how fantastic California Living is and how they all need to visit ASAP.  
  
"I think I'm homesick," Cas says. Sam rolls his eyes.  
  
"Really?" he says, sounding not at all sarcastic because it's clear that Cas still hasn't figured it out and Jesus Christ when will they wake up and smell the serious unresolved sexual tension?  
  
"Yes. I miss you, and Jess, and Astrid, and Dean…" he trails off, sounding the most miserable Sam's ever heard him sound.  
  
"Astrid never shuts up about wanting to see you," Sam says. "She was super bummed their trip got canceled."  
  
"Dean said he did it on purpose," Cas says, sounding more than a little bitter.  
  
Well. Dean never mentioned that.  
  
"Really? He just said it wasn't gonna work," Sam says. "I'll talk to him. Or, better, you should."  
  
"I doubt he wants to talk to me."  
  
***  
  
"Cas thinks you hate him.”  
  
Dean's head shoots up, and he stares at Sam.  
  
"You've been talking to him?"  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"Nothing," Dean stirs a pot, sniffs at it. "Is this burning?" Sam glances at it.  
  
"Not yet."  
  
Dean stirs the pot feverishly, and glances at Sam. "So you gonna tell me why I hate him?"  
  
"Actually, I was hoping you could answer that question for me."  
  
"I don't hate him, Sam."  
  
"Dean, it's been a month since you two had a civil conversation."  
  
"Yeah, and?"  
  
"He's your best friend. He's Astrid's uncle, for crying out loud! You can't just not talk to him ever again.”  
  
"It's working pretty well for right now," Dean says, and Sam gets off the counter.  
  
"Fine. Be an ass. I'm trying to help you."  
  
***  
  
It's been exactly three months since Cas moved away, and he's absolutely fucking miserable.  
  
Even the teaching job has lost its appeal. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He hates California, hates all the eco-friendly people and their superfruits and healthy foods, and other bullshit that he knows isn't actually as good for you as they all say.  
  
It doesn't help that none of his family is talking to him, now. The last he heard from Gabe was back in early April, right before he stopped calling Dean. Balthazar hasn't been west of Chicago since he moved. Even Sam's messages are becoming few and far-between, but Cas has a feeling that it might be his fault.  
  
He wakes up one night, from a nightmare he hasn't had in months, one that he never told Dean about, one that he can never remember. He goes into his tiny kitchen and looks for a mug to make tea, maybe get his subconscious to stop hating him long enough to get eight hours of sleep. He's trudging back toward his room when he notices a photograph sitting on a shelf. It's old, almost pre-Astrid, except Anna's clearly pregnant. They're at the Winchesters' house in Kansas over spring break and they're sandwiched between the Winchesters, Sam next to Anna and Dean next to Cas. They're grinning, almost obnoxiously, at the camera and Cas smiles just a little at how Dean's eyes scrunched up in the photo, how his mouth almost overtakes the rest of his face and how beautiful he looks like this --  
  
Wait.  
  
 **Fact: Dean looks beautiful and Cas never noticed it before.**  
  
It hits him like a ton of bricks, like a sucker punch to the gut. He grips his mug so tight his fingers go white. Dean is beautiful. Dean has always been beautiful.  
  
Cas loves him.  
  
Cas loves him and he's three thousand miles away and never wants to see him again, because Cas couldn't put a name on how he felt out here in California all alone and now he can and it's -- it's love. Cas is in love with Dean, and it took almost eight years, and moving across the fucking country and having a huge argument to finally figure the shit out.  
  
It's one in the morning here, four in the morning there, and there's no way Dean wants to hear his voice that early, or even at all, probably.  
  
***  
  
It's a sunny, happy day in May when he pulls into the parking lot at UCSD, and finally decides he's had enough. He doesn't even know what makes him do it, maybe it's the fact that he's driving a fucking Prius, maybe the fact that he just wants some fucking rain, maybe because if he sees one more barefoot, guitar-playing hipster wannabe he'll throw something, but he's had enough.  
He goes right into the head of the department's office and knocks on her door. She answers it, looks concerned.  
  
"Yes, Castiel?" And that's another thing. No one calls him Cas here.  
  
"I want to resign," he says, and her eyes bug out.  
  
"Oh. Well, why don't you come in," she says, and it's not a question. He follows her into her office, and takes a seat at the chair opposite her desk.  
  
"Why do you wish to resign?" she asks, concerned.  
  
"This -- I'm not meant to be a teacher, Naomi," he tells her. "I love it, yes, and the students are brilliant, but I'm not meant to be a teacher. I need to be out, researching and working at a museum, or something."  
  
"If you're sure," she says, and Cas is almost surprised that she didn't put up a fight.  
  
"I am."  
  
"Will you stay until term ends in two weeks?"  
  
"I -- yes. I can do that."  
  
 **Fact: It's the longest two weeks of Cas' life.**  
  
***  
  
They're nearing the one-year anniversary of Anna's death and Dean doesn't want to think about it. He debates asking Astrid if she knows, but at the same time, he doesn't.  
  
"Hey, Daddy?" Astrid asks on the way to school about a week before Anna's death-anniversary.  
  
"Yeah, babe?"  
  
"What did Mommy sound like?" He slams on the brakes.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What did Mommy sound like?" she repeats her question, slowly and carefully. Dean tries to come up with an answer.  
  
"Do you, not remember?" She shakes her head.  
  
He fumbles for his phone, goes through the videos until he finds one of Anna dancing and singing, just a little bit off-key, in the kitchen three Christmases ago. He presses play and hands it back to her. He watches her in the rearview, watches her smile slowly creep across her face, and then shrink again.  
  
"Y'okay, 'Strid?"  
  
"I miss her," she says quietly.  
  
"Yeah, me too, kiddo."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Astrid knows when it's the anniversary.**  
  
She wakes up, and looks at Dean with huge sad eyes, and he can't force her to go to school. He calls Bobby, and Bobby tells him to take the day off. Sam's got finals this week, finals and then the Bar Exam and then he's a lawyer, but he promises to come over later. Gabe calls, and then Balthazar, and they try to sound cheery for Astrid, but Dean knows they miss Anna.  
  
Sam comes over after his last exam of the day and he's acting a little weird, being hypersensitive to his phone, checking it almost religiously, but doesn't say why.  
  
"Did Cas call?" Sam asks while Astrid's upstairs, getting her pajamas.  
  
"Nope," Dean says.  
  
"Did you call him?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Dean, come on."  
  
"Dude doesn't wanna talk, I'm not gonna force him," Dean shrugs, clearing the last of the dishes off the table.  
  
"Dean, his sister died a year ago today."  
  
"Yeah, and my kid's mother died, and one of my best friends died, and maybe I'm a little messed up about it too, but I'm not gonna force myself to talk to someone who wants nothing to do with me, Sam, so just drop it!"  
  
"Go  _dammit_ , Dean, how long is it gonna take you to pull your head out of your ass, and realize why you're so goddamn against calling?"  
  
"Enlighten me, if I'm too damn dense to see it!"  
  
"You love him! You've loved him since day-fucking-one and now he's gone, and you lost your chance and you can't even see that you love him without someone explaining it to you like you're five fucking years old! My god, do you hav  _an_ idea how painful it is to watch you two skirt around each other for years?"  
  
The kitchen falls into a silence so deep it could swallow them whole. Dean's reeling, thinking about everything Sam said. Sam looks at the floor, puts the dish he's holding in the dishwasher, and turns to leave.  
  
"I'll see you later," he says quietly, and then the door opens and shuts, and he's gone.  
  
***  
  
Dean puts Astrid to bed at her normal bedtime and stays up almost the whole night thinking through everything Sam said.  
  
Dean loves Cas. Dean loves Cas and he never even noticed because he's so emotionally stunted. He glances at a picture of Cas at Anna's graduation. He's wearing a dark blue tie with a white button-down, and his hair is a mess and there are the beginnings of beginnings of crows' feet and maybe a little bit of stubble and he's just gorgeous. Dean never noticed.  
  
He thinks back to every moment in the brownstone since they moved in, how in tune they'd been, how they'd always paired off together, and now it's becoming clearer and clearer: they've always been in love. Dean and Cas have always been in love except they've never actually noticed.  
  
Suddenly Gabe and Balthazar's teasing doesn't seem much like teasing.  
  
That kiss at New Year's…that had been a plan on their part.  
  
Pride, all those years ago. That shouldn't have gone ignored.  
  
 _What the hell were they thinking?_


	18. Seventeen

Now, what should happen, if Dean's life really were a rom-com, is Dean would call Cas and confess his true love, and Cas would confess his, saying he was just about to call and tell them he's moving back east, he's so sorry, can he please come home? And Dean would say of course and tell Astrid that Cas is coming back. And then Dean and Astrid would go to LaGuardia and pick him up and there'd be a huge romantic kiss in the middle of the welcome area and Astrid would laugh and they'd go home hand-in-hand-in-hand and unpack Cas' suitcase together. They'd go out to dinner with Jess and Sam, and Sam would finally, finally, finally propose to Jess. Of course, she'd say yes. And then they'd go home and put Astrid to bed together and kiss her goodnight and fall madly in bed with each other (but quietly, of course. There's an almost-seven-year-old in the house).   
  
**Fact: Reality is a cruel bitch.**  
  
Dean's life isn't a rom-com. He doesn't get to have the kid, and the guy, and the happily ever after. Cas isn't talking to him, partially due to his own stupidity. Cas is also three thousand miles away and not going anywhere any time soon (at least, according to Dean). So, Dean tries to move on. Doesn't say anything about his epiphany to Sam, or Jess, or Gabe and Balthazar when they call. Doesn't mention Cas unless Astrid brings him up first, and tries not to let it show.   
  
Astrid's last day of school comes, and she's all smiles when he picks her up that afternoon. "Lilith apologized today," she says happily, climbing into the car and throwing her backpack on the floor. "To me and Jesse, and to Ben Braeden. Look, there he is!" She points out the windshield and he sees Ben getting into Lisa's car. Lisa sees them, smiles, and waves. Dean contemplates driving over, pulling up next to her, asking her out. But then he can't see himself with her, can't see a future with her and Ben, and it breaks his heart a little because she's perfect for him and Astrid.   
He pulls out of the parking lot and starts heading home.   
  
***  
  
Sam and Cas are glued to their phones three thousand miles apart. Cas called him just before Sam yelled at Dean, and told him he was coming home, don't tell Dean yet. They spend the next few days, when Sam isn't finals-ing, and Cas isn't proctoring finals, texting each other nonstop, making plans and arrangements for Cas. He doesn't want to just show up on their doorstep, so Sam arranges a pay-by-the-month rent agreement with his landlord for a studio apartment two floors down. It's cheap, and if Dean and Cas pull their heads out of their asses soon, he can move back in with Dean and Astrid, hopefully, and there won't be a lease to worry about. Cas ships boxes of things back east and Sam moves them into the apartment for him.   
  
Cas texts him the date and time of his flight the morning before the bar exam. Jess reads it over his shoulder.   
  
"You should tell him," she says, leaning her head next to his.   
  
"He doesn't want me to," Sam reminds her. He's not looking, but he can feel the eye-roll. She kisses his cheek and stands up, clears the dirty plates away.  
  
"Good luck today," she says as he's heading out the door, and she grabs his face and kisses him one last time as his phone vibrates twice. As he's heading for the stairs -- the elevator's broken -- he pulls it out and checks the two unread messages, one from Dean and one from Cas.  
  
Good luck today. You'll do fine!  
  
me and strid wanna say good luck.   
  
Attached to Dean's is a picture of a semi-toothless almost-seven-year-old, and her father making stupid faces, holding a sheet of paper that says "GOOD LUCK UNCLE SAMMY" in Dean's blocky, all-capitals-no-matter-what handwriting. Sam smiles, saves the picture to his phone, and heads for his exam.  
  
***  
  
Sam bitches for a week after he takes the test because apparently the results won't come back for like, four months and he's impatient as all hell, but Dean just listens to him ramble on and on about everything. It could be worse, Dean reasons. How, he's not sure, but it could be.  
  
Dean thinks he might be almost over Cas about a week before Astrid's birthday. He and Astrid go out for pizza on a very rainy Wednesday night, and she talks all about what she wants to do on her birthday, and can they please go see a show at Mommy's old theatre because they haven't in forever? He makes a mental note to check out what they're doing, and if she can see any of the shows.  
  
"Can we visit Cas?" Astrid asks suddenly and the swooping feeling in his stomach makes it clear that no, you're not over him, asshole.  
  
"When?"  
  
"I dunno," she shrugs. "Before September?"  
  
"We'll see," Dean says. Astrid slumps. "What?"  
  
"Whenever you or Cas or Uncle Sammy or Auntie Jess say that, it means no," she tells him.  
  
"It does not!"  
  
"Yuh-huh. Every time."  
  
"California's a long way away, 'Strid. Plane tickets are a lot of money, and you won't like driving there."  
  
"And you're scared of planes," she points out.  
  
"And I'm scared of planes," he agrees. "Besides, I haven't talked to him in a while."  
  
"Why not?" she asks, chewing on a breadstick. "Uncle Sammy texts him all the time."  
  
"Well, because -- wait, what?"  
  
"Uncle Sammy and Cas are always texting each other. Every time his phone goes off there's this little message that pops up on the screen with Cas' name on it," she says, holding her fingers just a little bit apart to show how small the message is. "And Uncle Sammy always texts him back, right after he reads it."  
  
"Huh," is all Dean says.  
  
You'd think someone would mention something to him, right?  
  
***  
  
It's end-of-the-world raining outside when they leave the pizzeria. Dean rushes her into the car, holding his beat-up leather jacket over her head so she doesn't get totally soaked and her hair becomes unmanageable. They get into the Impala and they start heading for home. It's darker than ever outside, the clouds thick and black. The occasional flash of lightning across the sky lights the trees against it, making everything bright for just a second.   
  
"One hell of a storm, huh," Dean says absently.   
  
"Bad word, Daddy."  
  
"'S in the Bible, 'Strid, I can say it!"  
  
"No, you can't!"  
  
"Yes, I can!"  
  
"No, you --"  
  
But she's cut off by metal on metal and the sound of the Impala crushing in on itself.   
  
***  
  
When Dean regains consciousness, he figures he's only been out a few minutes. The rain is still pounding on the car -- the car. He looks around himself, sees the passenger-side crumpled in on itself, broken glass fallen on the seat beside him and rain pitter-pattering on it. The headlights of the other car -- a taxi, maybe? -- are busted out, and he can see the airbag deployed, but not the driver.   
  
"Oh, my god, Astrid," he murmurs, and starts to turn but he realizes his head is pounding and his neck hurts, and something warm and sticky is dripping down from his forehead and he doesn't need to touch his hand to it to know he's bleeding. "Astrid?"  
  
She's not moving.   
  
Suddenly, every nightmare that Anna had that first year, every mini panic attack she'd have being away from her for any extended period of time, every fear she had sending her off to her first day of kindergarten, they all make sense.   
  
"Astrid!" he says her name louder, and he can maybe hear sirens and he should be getting out, should be trying to get help faster, but all he can think about is the little girl, unconscious, almost doll-like, slumped in the back seat.  
  
He undoes his seatbelt and practically climbs over his seat to reach her, grabbing at something, anything he can, anything that might tell him she's alive.   
  
***  
  
Dean only has a concussion and whiplash and needs some stitches for the cut on his forehead, but he's overall okay. He could've told them that the second the ambulances got there, but he lets it go. Or, he does, until he's barred from seeing Astrid.  
  
"She's my daughter! I'm her next of kin, let me through!"  
  
"Mr. Winchester, please, once the doctors have done a full examination, and determine what needs to be done, you can see her."  
  
"Uh, we got hit by a taxi! I think that explains everything!"  
  
"Dean!"   
  
Dean turns. Sam is running through the ER, out of breath and a little drenched. "Dean, c'mon, they'll call us when we can see her."  
  
"But --!"  
  
"Come on," Sam pulls him toward a chair, only taking his hand off his shoulder when he's sure he won't jump up and try to run to her room or something. "Dude, you need to calm down."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"I'm just saying."  
  
"And I'm just saying: shut up."  
  
They both fall silent, except for the occasional buzz from Sam's pocket.   
  
"Who the hell is texting you?" Dean finally asks after the seventh time he takes his phone out.  
  
"Jess," he says, much too fast for it to be true. Dean makes a disbelieving noise. "No, really! She's trying to get here but traffic's a bitch." He types out a response and slides his phone into his pocket.  
  
"Where were you?"  
  
"At the apartment," he says. "I almost took a cab but the traffic was so backed up I jumped out and ran."  
  
"Huh."  
  
They fall silent again, and it's another hour before the doctor shows up.  
  
"Dean Winchester?" Both Sam and Dean stand up. "Why don't you come with me."  
  
 **Fact: Dean's stomach is somewhere in his feet right now.**  
  
Finding out about Anna was all too similar to what's happening now. The very accident, the way the cars hit, the kind of car in both accidents, it's too much. Except this time, Dean's well and truly alone. Sam and Jess are going to get married, for Christ's sake. They're going to have a life, and two-point-five kids and a dog, and a fenced-in backyard, and Dean? Dean's going to be bitter and alone, forever pining after the one that got away and the daughter who was never truly his.   
  
But instead of leading them into his office, where he breaks the news gently, he takes them into a hospital room, where Astrid's all laid up, hooked up to machines and tubes and wires, and it's scary, yes, but she's alive.  
  
"She still needs surgery," the doctor is telling Sam, because Dean's just staring at Astrid, watching her. "She'll be in and out by tomorrow morning. After that, it's all up to her."  
  
"Thanks, Doc," Sam says, and the doctor leaves. "Dean, she's gonna be okay."  
  
"He said it was up to her."  
  
"Can't you look at the bright side of things? He gave her a positive diagnosis. She's gonna be fine."  
  
"Except we don't know that, Sam! For all we know, she could -- she could --" except he can't say it. He can't bring himself to voice the idea, doesn't want to chance bad luck like that, and he's never considered himself superstitious. He already feels guilty enough for even thinking it.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" Sam asks. "Your daughter's gonna be just fine, you've got everything going okay, what's up?"  
  
"You were right, okay?" Dean says. "You were right about me and Cas, and I didn't see it, and now Cas is three thousand miles away, and not speaking to me, and if he were here, he'd be standing right where you are, telling me to shut up and get over myself, and stop spewing negativity or some shit, and he's not, and it sucks, okay? It sucks that I didn't realize how much I -- how important he was until he's already gone and hates me, and now I gotta pick up the pieces on my own and it was hard enough to do when he was still around because I'm a hot damn mess, Sam! I can't keep putting on a front for her. She deserves better than that. And now I might not even get the chance to give her that." Dean slumps in a chair next to the bed, runs his hands over his face. He thinks he hears Sam's phone, but doesn't say anything.   
  
"Mr. Winchester?" He uncovers his face, and there's a nurse, young, blonde, totally his type if he weren't in the middle of an existential breakdown, peeking into the room. "There's a man in the waiting room, says he's Astrid's father, would like to see her?" Dean looks at Sam, who's making a strange face at his phone.   
  
"Dark hair, blue eyes? Kinda scruffy?" The nurse purses her lips, thinking.  
  
"I guess, yeah..." she says, and Dean gets up in a huff, storms across the room, and down the hall toward the waiting room, not realizing that Sam's just barely keeping up.  
  
It's Chuck. It's Chuck, and Dean knows it because his life isn't that simple. Of course he'd do this now, when Astrid's probably going to die and his best friend, possibly the love of his life, hates him and won't speak to him, of course he'd try and ruin Dean's life even further than it already has tonight and this is just the icing on the fucking cake, and Dean's got some choice words for this asshole when he sees --   
  
Cas.  
  
He sees Cas, in that stupid trenchcoat he's had since high school.   
  
Cas isn't across the country and ignoring him and being angry at him.  
  
Cas is standing in front of him, rained-on and scared shitless.   
  
"Hello, Dean," he says, a little bit breathless, and Dean's so shocked he doesn't know what to say.  
  
 **Fact: His mouth, however, does.**  
  
"You asshole," is the first thing out of Dean's mouth, and no one is more shocked than him about it, but he keeps going. "You abandoned me and her, you know that? She needed you, and you moved to California because some dickwad who wanted your job told you it'd be a smart job choice. She asked about you every day after you left, you know that? 'When's Cas coming home? When can I see him? Is he coming home for spring break if we're not going there?'" Dean doesn't even care about the look on Cas' face right now, doesn't care that he's maybe crying right now, he has to get this all off his chest right now, even with the people staring. "You have any idea how hard it was to explain it to her? Repeatedly, because even then she still didn't get it? Dammit, Cas, we needed you. I needed you. I still need --" and then he cuts off, because Cas is hugging him. Cas is hugging him in the middle of everyone, and Dean is clinging to that stupid trenchcoat like it's keeping him alive.   
  
***  
  
Sam doesn't say anything when Cas walks them back to Astrid's room. He just says he's going down to the cafeteria, he'll be back in a few. Cas pulls Dean down into the chair next to him and Dean doesn't let go of Cas' fingers but Cas doesn't say anything about it so Dean doesn't, either.  
  
They're both silent for a long time, before Dean finally feels like he can talk again.  
  
"Why did you come back?"  
  
"California was not -- it was hell, Dean," he sighs, and Dean stares at him. "Don't let me do something like that again."  
  
"Yeah, okay," Dean says, still a little confused. "You said it was great."  
  
Cas fixes him with that look, the one that says, Dean, stop being an idiot.  
  
"I was lying.”  
  
"Oh."  
  
They both fall silent again, listening to the steady beep-beep-beep of Astrid's machines.   
  
"Are you coming back? To the house, I mean," Dean asks after a while, not looking at him, and instead trying to count the spots on the floor tiles.   
  
"Do you want me to?" Cas asks. Dean frowns at the floor.  
  
"'Course I do, why wouldn't I?"  
  
"I just thought that since you and Astrid have been, y'know, being a family for so long, it would be awkward if --"  
  
"Dude, you're family. You're her mom's brother, you're my --" Dean cuts himself off. He thinks he feels Cas squeeze his fingers, but he can't be sure. "You can totally come home." It isn't until the word is out of his mouth that Dean realizes he said it, but when he looks at Cas, there's this smile that he hasn't seen in an impossibly long time, long before he moved away and Dean stopped seeing him, period.   
  
"We should talk, about everything," Cas says eventually, when Sam still hasn't come back (what the hell is that kid doing?) and they're still not really talking except for stupid little four-sentence conversations that could move mountains if they went on for just a little bit longer, but they never do.  
  
"Yeah, you're right," Dean agrees. These types of conversations are like ripping off bandaids, quick and less painful versus drawn out, long, and everyone in tears by the end.  
  
"I'm sorry, about not calling. I didn't have a good reason to not call, and I was being selfish, and you and Astrid didn't deserve that."  
  
"I'm sorry about bitching you out unnecessarily."  
  
"I realized something, while I was gone," Cas says quietly, watching Astrid's face. "I love you. I have for a long time, I think, and it took me moving across the country and thinking that I'd never see or hear from you again to realize it, and I can't risk that again, so there it is. I love you."  
  
Dean tries not to grip his fingers too tightly. Cas loves him. It repeats itself over and over and over in his head, echoing in his ears.  
  
"I love you, too," Dean manages, hoping he doesn't sound too choked. When he looks at Cas, he's smiling again, and he twists their hands so their fingers aren't just clinging to each other, their entire hands are interlocked and resting on the armrests between them.   
  
They should be kissing. Dean knows it, knows Cas knows it, but they can't. Not here, where they're waiting for news on Astrid's surgery, not when Sam could walk in at any given moment, and see them and start planning their wedding when he hasn't even proposed so he can have his own.  
  
"Mr. Winchester?" It's Astrid's doctor. Dean stands up but doesn't let go of Cas' hand. "We're ready for Astrid now. I'd recommend going home and getting some sleep. She won't be done for several hours. We'll call you as soon as she's out." Dean nods, and the nurses descend moments later, getting ready to wheel Astrid out of the room.   
  
"Just a sec," Dean says, and he approaches her bedside carefully, towing Cas along by the hand. "Hey, 'Strid," he says quietly, and tugs Cas a little closer, "Cas is here, when you wake up. So wake up, okay, baby girl?" He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, the one part of her that isn't bruised or stitched or otherwise damaged, and the nurses make doe eyes at him as they finish prepping her and start wheeling her away.   
  
Sam finally, finally comes back with a few water bottles and stares at Astrid getting wheeled away.   
  
"They'll call in the morning. We're going home. Go get some sleep," Dean tells him, taking a water bottle. Sam glances at their interlocked hands, gives him the biggest grin, and hugs them both at the same time. "Jesus!"  
  
"Thanks, guys," he whispers. Dean and Cas look over his head, trying to figure out for what, but they give up and just pat his back.  
  
"Okay, Sammy, go home, get some rest, you're hysterical again."  
  
***  
  
"Where's your stuff?" Dean asks as they hail a cab. Dean's car was towed to Bobby's garage. He doesn't want to think about it right now.   
  
"I had it shipped to Sam," Cas admits as they slide into one, and Dean give the driver their address.   
  
"Why?"  
  
"I didn't think you wanted to see me again. Or, if you did, that you'd want me to move in immediately. I was going to live in an apartment in his building."  
  
"How long have you been keeping this a secret from me?" Dean asks, leaning in a little closer. He smells like plane, and that shouldn't be attractive.  
  
"A few weeks," Cas admits, leaning his head on Dean's shoulder. "I quit the day before Anna's anniversary."  
  
"Oh."  
  
They fall silent until they reach the brownstone. Dean tosses the guy a few bills, tells him to keep the change, and they slide out of the cab and go up the stairs to the front door together.  
  
"I thought you were Chuck at first," Dean admits as he unlocks the door. Cas' brow furrows and he continues. "He showed up, that day we had that fight. He was looking for Anna. Didn't even know she died."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"He saw Astrid, started asking questions. I told him what he wanted to know, and kicked him out," Dean shrugs, finally gets the stupid door open, and ushers Cas inside. The living room is a mess, Astrid's toys and shoes, and some laundry that Dean hadn't finished folding strewn about the room. Cas doesn't say anything, just shrugs out of his trenchcoat. It's nearly three in the morning, and they're tired, but for some reason Dean can't bring himself to suggest going to bed because he's half afraid he'll wake up, and Cas returning was all a dream.  
  
"Did he come back?"  
  
"No. I don't think he will, either," Dean says, and he sits down on the couch, right next to one of Astrid's uniform jumpers. She won't be wearing them again until September, but they'll probably have to order new ones, the way she's growing.   
  
That is, if she makes it.  
  
He feels terrible thinking like that. Of course she won't die, the doctors gave her a great prognosis, or whatever the word is, and she's in surgery right now. If anything, she'll end up with some really cool scarring and something to talk to Ellen about. But he can't help but think about worst-case scenario, and Dean wonders if that means he's officially a parent.   
  
Cas moves the jumper, and drops down next to him, and wraps an arm around him and Dean realizes, oh shit, he's sniffling like a girl.   
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Cas, I can't -- if she dies --"  
  
"She's not going to die, Dean," Cas says, gently condescending, if that were possible. "She's gonna be fine."  
  
"Cas, I'm a fucking dad. When the hell did that happen?" he asks, and he thinks Cas might be smiling.   
  
"Trust me, I spent a lot of time asking myself that question, too, when it happened," Dean laughs wetly.   
  
"You're not allowed to leave again," he says suddenly, and Cas nods. "I don't give a flying fuck what anyone tells you. If you leave again, I'll  -- I don't know what'll happen, but it won't be pretty." Cas catches his chin with one hand, and forces Dean to look at him.   
  
"I'm not going anywhere," he tells him slowly, carefully, like he's engraving the words into Dean's eardrums. "I'm not leaving, again. Astrid will be fine, but right now you need to understand that I'm never leaving you again, not after tonight."   
  
**Fact: Maybe Dean finally believes him after that.**  
  
He thinks he might, because he reaches up, with both hands, nearly losing his balance but not caring because the next second he's got Cas' lips -- narrowly missing each other's teeth -- on his, and they're finally kissing the way they should've been for, oh, years. Cas inhales sharply, kisses back, shooting forward, and balancing Dean out. His hand leaves his chin, migrates down his neck and around, and back up to Dean's hair, pulling him ever closer and pressing his nose into Dean's cheek.   
  
Cas' mouth parts just slightly, and his tongue brushes against Dean's lips and Dean's part just a little, granting entrance. Cas is warm, almost too warm, his tongue brushes along his teeth and makes him shiver. Cas' other hand comes up, pulls his shoulder in even closer, and they're practically in each others' laps at this point. Cas must realize it too, because he suddenly rocks up and really is in Dean's lap, cock pressing insistent into his stomach, legs winding themselves over Dean's. Dean breaks the kiss, rests his forehead against Cas, panting a little.   
  
"Upstairs?" Cas suggests, breathless. Dean nods, catching his lips one last time before Cas climbs off his lap. Cas holds out a hand, which Dean takes, and Cas pulls him off the couch and toward the stairs. They go up, not like after Pride, where they were basically stripping their way up the stairs and stopping every two seconds to make out. This time around, they don't trip up the stairs, feet dragging drunkenly behind them. They don't stop to ram the other up against the wall and basically lick the insides of their mouths (which, from what Dean can remember from that night, ew). They do go up the stairs as quickly as possible, yes, but Dean's feet don't catch on the carpeting Anna insisted on when Astrid learned to walk and Cas doesn't pin Dean against the wall, which is probably for the better at this point.   
  
There's a minor debate for a moment -- Cas' room or Dean's? -- but Dean pulls Cas towards him and into his room.   
  
**Fact: Cas' room is empty.**  
  
His bed's still there, and the skeleton of a room, sure, but Dean's not doing this in a room completely stripped of its identity, god dammit. He has standards.  
  
He's also a huge fucking girl and if Sam knew that, he'd never hear the end of it.  
  
Cas lets himself be pulled into Dean's room, takes in the minor changes -- a calendar hanging on the wall, a few of Astrid's clothes scattered from when she came asking for his opinion, like she's already a teenager -- but doesn't get the chance to look for very long because Dean pulls him over to the bed and pulls him down on top of himself. Cas' nose bumps his, and Cas laughs, quiet and breath huffing just against Dean's lips. He straddles Dean's thighs, leans down, and their lips find each other again.   
  
Dean fumbles, reaches up, tries to pull the ratty T-shirt off, and Cas smiles against his lips and sits himself up a little to pull it over his head. Dean's hand trace up his sides and Cas smirks just a little, and leans down again to kiss him, hands already on the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward slowly and carefully. Once it's off, he kisses down Dean's jaw and neck and over his collarbone, nipping and leaving tiny marks in his wake. He sucks a hickey into the hollow right between the curve of his clavicle and where his neck starts, and laughs a little when Dean moans. Cas' hands are everywhere, except the front of his jeans, and it's making Dean antsy, bucking up, looking for friction.   
  
"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" he says as Cas sits up, wiping the spit off the corner of his mouth.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"No, you're not." Cas smiles.  
  
"You're right."  
  
He leans down again, and this time he kisses him hard, insistent, proving a point, and Dean almost doesn't notice his hands undoing his belt and popping the button of his jeans open, and tugging them down his hips, getting up on his knees to pull them off until Dean's lying there in black boxer-briefs and Cas is still wearing pants.   
  
"You should take those off," Dean pants when he breaks the kiss, tracing a hand down Cas' arm and reaching for the belt buckle and undoing it with only slightly shaky hands. Cas wiggles his way out of the jeans and Dean flips them over, kissing at Cas' neck and Cas' hands shoot to Dean's hair as he moans. Dean smiles into his neck.   
  
"You -- you're not allowed to call me a tease," Cas says when Dean pulls away and hooks his fingers over the elastic of Cas' underwear. Dean smirks at him, starts tugging, excruciatingly slowly, at them, but Cas suddenly flips them both over again and kisses his way down Dean's chest, breath ghosting over his boxer-briefs and pulling them down toward his ankles, lightly kissing the skin just left of Dean's cock. His eyes flick up, and the ghost of a smirk across his lips as Dean's eyes meet his. He holds down Dean's hips as his mouth traces lightly, so lightly he almost can't feel it, from base to tip.   
  
"You have lube in here, right?" Cas asks, frowning slightly and brushing over Dean's cock again. Dean tries to respond, he does, but it comes out more as a strangled moan than anything else. Cas pulls away, half-expectant expression in place.  
  
"Y-yeah, in the drawer," Dean says, nodding toward the bedside table.   
  
"You've been hiding it," Cas says as he peels his own underwear off and climbs back into the bed, having retrieved the bottle under layers of papers and old T-shirts.  
  
"You haven't been living with a six-year-old," Dean mumbles. Cas hums, opens the bottle and squeezes lube out onto his fingers.   
  
"True," Cas agrees, brushing his fingers against Dean's hole. Dean hisses, and Cas murmurs an apology, slowly working him open. "You're tight."  
  
"Haven't really had the opportunity, if you know what I mean," Dean tells him. Cas doesn't say anything, just kisses the inside of his thigh and presses his fingers in deeper, making Dean arch back.   
  
He pulls out after a while, kisses his way up Dean's torso and up to his lips, reaching for the lube again. As he slicks up, Dean says, "You realize we've been skirting around each other for years, right?"  
  
"Of course," Cas murmurs, clicking the bottle shut and tossing it somewhere off the bed. He lines himself up and presses in slowly, and they both moan, almost at the same time.   
  
Dean has his feet firmly planted on the bed on either side of Cas and with every thrust his toes curl a little tighter into the sheets. Cas is everywhere at once and all Dean can see, hear, smell, taste, and feel, and it's kind of what he imagines heaven to be. Cas' lips roam across his skin, nibbling at the corner between where his jaw ends and where his neck starts, sucking just under his ear, kissing across his chin.  
  
"Fucking hell, Cas," Dean pants, trying to catch his lips but Cas is moving too quickly for him, already kissing down his jaw and to his ear. Cas thrusts in harder this time and Dean gasps, moving against him and starting to reach down for his own cock but Cas' hand suddenly catches his wrist, pushing it aside. He grabs Dean's cock himself, jerking him off in time with his thrusts.  
  
Dean comes first, gasping into Cas' mouth and grasping at the skin of Cas' back. Cas follows, not too far after, a seemingly never-ending string of "Dean Dean Dean Dean" as he does. They both lie there, sticky with lube and come, panting, trying to catch up to their breathing. Cas eventually reaches over for a T-shirt -- maybe his, maybe Dean's; it's too dark to tell -- and cleans them up. He tosses the shirt somewhere -- probably with the lube -- and he spoons himself behind Dean.   
  
"I'm not leaving," Cas murmurs, picking up their long-forgotten conversation.  
  
"You better not," Dean tells him, relaxing into Cas' arms and closing his eyes. "You're good in bed." Cas pinches his hip. "Ow!"  
  
"Don't be a dick, I'm trying to tell you I love you."  
  
"I know. I love you, too."  
  
***  
  
It's four hours later that the landline rings. Cas drags himself out of bed to answer it. When he gets off the phone, he slinks back into bed, curls up close to Dean, who's already awake and staring at the ceiling. Cas props himself up on one elbow, runs a few fingers through Dean's hair.  
  
"Astrid's out of surgery. We can go see her now."


	19. Eighteen

Dean doesn't even care that his room looks like a tornado tore through it. He doesn't care that he hasn't showered since Tuesday (it's now Thursday, for the record) and he doesn't care that he's not sure if the shirt he's wearing is clean or dirty, and he's not entirely sure if he remembered to put on deodorant before dragging Cas out of the house, before remembering he doesn't have a car, and going inside to call Sam to bring Jess' shitty little hatchback over so they can go to the hospital.  
  
 **Fact: He just wants to see Astrid.**  
  
"Dean, what are you doing?"  
  
"I'm pacing, Cas!"  
  
"You never pace."  
  
"I can start any time I damn well please!"  
  
"You're making me nervous. You're going to trip on the throw rug. Stop it," Dean looks at him with a half-incredulous, half "I can't believe you just said that" expression. "What?"  
  
"'Throw rug?'"  
  
"It's what it's called," Cas says, confused. Dean shakes it off, can't find it in himself to make a snarky comment about it, and keeps pacing.  
  
"You guys ready?" Sam comes in about ten minutes later and Dean's practically climbing the walls.  
  
"Thank God," they say together, and Sam gives them a strange look but they leave the brownstone hand-in-hand, and Dean knows Sam's got the goofiest smile ever on his face, but he doesn't care.  
  
"What took you so long, Samantha?"  
  
"Don't call me that. Jess lost her keys."  
  
Sam drives them to the hospital, maybe a little jittery himself to see his niece. Dean talks to the smiling, non-tired nurses working the desk, and they direct him down the hall of the pediatrics wing, where they cross paths with her doctor.  
  
"Mr. Winchester," he says, only a little surprised. "She just woke up. She's asking for you."  
  
"So she's okay?"  
  
"She's none too pleased with the color of her cast, but overall, yes, she's fine," he says wryly. Dean can't help it, laughs even though it's dumb, and half-runs down the hall. Astrid is propped up, arm in a cast that's orange -- her least favorite color; she's told him so six times -- and all parts of her in bandages, but she smiles hugely for him when she sees him, all half-grown-in adult teeth and gaps where they've just fallen out.  
  
"Hi, Daddy!"  
  
"Hey, baby girl," he says, staggering slightly as he approaches. He drags a chair up and sits down right next to her, takes her unbroken hand. "How you feelin'? Scared the crap outta me. No, I get to use that word right now." he says, holding up a finger when she starts to tell him off. She giggles. "Guess who else is here?"  
  
"Hey, Asteroid," Sam says, swinging through the doorway. "Cool cast, kiddo, can I sign it?"  
  
"Dr. Bell says I can get a pink one," she tells them.  
  
"That'll match everything in your closet, right?" Sam teases.  
  
"Dude, how would you know what's in her closet?"  
  
"I go shopping with Jess! I even pick, sometimes…"  
  
"Please, Sam, your children will be so well-dressed, and it will not be thanks to you," Cas says, and Astrid's face positively lights up when she sees him. Like a goddamn Christmas tree.  
  
"Cas!"  
  
"Hi, pretty girl," he says, perching himself on Dean's lap and she grabs at his hand, letting go of Dean's without a second thought.  
  
"When did you come back?"  
  
"Last night," he says. "I found out you were here as soon as the plane landed."  
  
"Why were you here?" she asks, all wide-blue-eyes and extreme confusion. "Daddy said you guys weren't talking anymore." Cas glances at Dean, who's got a hand resting on Cas' leg, just above the knee.  
  
"Astrid, sometimes, when people love each other, they get really dumb, and argue over dumb things," Sam says.  
  
"Daddy and Cas argue about dumb things a lot." Sam snorts when she says this, and Cas and Dean swat his arms at the same time. Astrid laughs.  
  
"Is it okay if I come back?" Cas asks, and Dean gives him a confused look, which he ignores, watching Astrid intently.  
  
"Like, home?" she asks. "You're gonna live with us again?"  
  
"Is that okay with you?"  
  
"You promise not to leave again?" Dean thinks he sees something like guilt on Cas' face, but Cas smiles, nods.  
  
"I promise."  
  
***  
  
Astrid gets to come home the day before her birthday. Jesse’s waiting for them on the steps when they pull up in one of Bobby's cars -- the Impala is waiting in Dean's part of the garage, the passenger side nothing but scrap metal. Bobby's letting him work on it during work hours, says he's got more than enough mechanics to keep up with demand, tells him to shut up every time he offers to do oil and tire changes.  
Jesse's got a huge posterboard with "WELCOME HOME ASTRID" in stickers propped up against his knees. Cas helps Astrid out of the car, and Jesse jumps up when he sees her.  
  
"Careful with her, kiddo," Dean says. "She's all banged up."  
  
"She's gonna be okay, though, right?" Jesse asks. "Not like Ms. Milton?" It takes Dean a second to remember that that's what Anna was called by Astrid's friends.  
  
"Nothing like her mom, no," Dean promises. Astrid climbs the stairs slowly, stops in front of Jesse and grins.  
  
"Look, I got a cast! You wanna sign it?"  
  
"Can I?"  
  
"Uh-huh! Uncle Sammy already did, and so did Auntie Jess, but Cas and Daddy haven't yet and you can too and when Uncle Gabe visits he gets to, too, and --"  
  
"'Strid, you know the cast's gonna come off, right?" Dean asks. She scowls at him, and it's such an Anna face he can't help but laugh. "Let's go inside. Jesse can sign the cast, and maybe Cas can unpack, finally."  
  
Cas takes Astrid's bag of stuff from the hospital up to her room and comes back downstairs only to bring his suitcases -- taken from the apartment he won't be using in Sam's building -- up to his room. He disappears for a while, probably sorting his clothes and whatever else he packed. Dean sets the children up in the kitchen with markers, and Astrid and Jesse doodle on her cast, talking about whatever seven-year-olds talk about and giggling every now and then, and Astrid squeals a little when Jesse writes his name in blue block letters across the back of her wrist on the cast. Dean lurks in the doorway and Cas comes up behind him, chin hooked over his shoulder as they watch.  
  
"Twenty bucks says they get together before they're sixteen," Dean murmurs.  
  
"You're on."  
  
***  
  
It's easy to move forward, once everything's settled.  
  
For Astrid's birthday, they go for a picnic in Central Park and see a show at Anna’s old theatre. Most of the actors are still there, can't believe how big Astrid's getting. They let her visit them backstage, and they all sign her cast -- rather, they try, because her and Jesse's doodles take up the majority of the hot pink plaster. They announce, at the curtain call, that the show was dedicated to their former director because her family is in the crowd, and they miss her and love her. Astrid cries only a little.  
  
 **Fact: She doesn't ask about Cas and Dean's relationship for a long time.**  
  
She never says anything when they go out and Dean holds Cas' hand on one side and hers on the other. She doesn't ask when Cas leans into him when they have a movie night one week after he gets back, and she definitely doesn't mention when she finds them both in Dean's bed one morning and wakes them up by jumping on them.  
  
It's one month since Cas came back and they're in the kitchen. Cas is making breakfast and Dean is swearing at the coffee machine under his breath, so Astrid doesn't hear. Astrid is watching from the table, doodling on the corner of her cast, which is coming off in a couple days. She looks up suddenly.  
  
"Daddy?"  
  
"Yeah, 'Strid?"  
  
"Are you and Cas in love?" Dean's fingers slip and he nearly spills coffee grinds everywhere. Cas just takes the pan off the heat and scrapes scrambled eggs onto three plates and sets one of them down in front of Astrid.  
  
"Why do you ask?" Cas says, smiling slightly.  
  
"Well, Uncle Sammy said to Uncle Gabe on the phone that there was no way you'd ever leave again, because you and Daddy are whisked and --"  
  
"I think you mean whipped, sweetheart," Cas corrects, trying not to laugh.  
  
"He said we're whipped?" Dean almost shouts. Cas gives him a disapproving look quickly and turns all his attention back to Astrid, but she's looking at Dean, nodding.  
  
"Yeah, that. He said like cream."  
  
"I'm gonna kill that kid."  
  
"No, you're not. Continue, Astrid," Cas says.  
  
"Well, he said that, and then Auntie Jess said that it was about time and then they started talking about a bet and Uncle Gabe and Balthazar and Uncle Sammy won, I think? Except Mommy might have won. It was confusing."  
  
"Well, we are," Cas says, and Dean turns to hide his stupid grin.  
  
"Oh. Okay," Astrid says, looking down at her drawing again before setting it aside and pulling the plate in front of her. "So, does that mean you guys are gonna get married?" Dean splutters, nearly spits out his coffee.  
  
"Not for a while, if at all," Cas says, and Astrid frowns.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"He just got back, 'Strid," Dean manages, once he's breathing again. Cas nods.  
  
"Exactly. I just got back."  
  
"That's dumb. If you guys love each other, then you should get married."  
  
"Sometimes, it's better to wait," Cas says.  
  
"Whatever," she says, and Dean and Cas exchange a look. When did she become a snotty teenager? "Can you be my other dad?" They both stop, look at each other and then at her.  
  
"I-if you want," Cas says, and Dean thinks that he might actually be speechless. Astrid nods, looks down at her plate.  
  
"Okay. But he's Daddy, so you need a different name," she decides, and Dean and Cas look at each other. Dean shrugs at him, a silent dude, I'm not naming you.  
  
"Like what?" Cas asks, and Dean thinks his voice sounds thick.  
  
"Hmm…Papa," she says. "You're Papa."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: She doesn't slip up nearly as much with "Papa" as she did with "Daddy."**  
  
Dean thinks it might be because "Cas" and "Papa" start with different letters, and it's a different word entirely, but "Dean" and "Daddy" are more similar. It doesn't matter though, because two weeks after the conversation, "Cas" is almost entirely eliminated from her vocabulary.  
  
The first time Sam and Jess hear it, they're sitting around the kitchen table in Sam and Jess' tiny apartment, having ordered pizza and watching the Yankees beat the shit out of the Marlins. Astrid is perched at the countertop, turned in her chair to watch the game and being very careful not to get pizza grease on her clothes. Cas and Dean are flopped across one half of the couch, Dean's legs draped over Cas', and Jess is pretty much in Sam's lap.  
  
"Astrid, when you're done, throw that plate away, okay?" Cas reminds her.  
  
"Okay, Papa," she says, hopping off the stool, stuffing the crust into her mouth and taking the plate around to the garbage can. Sam and Jess' heads snap to her in unison, and then to Dean and Cas.  
  
"That's new," Sam says.  
  
"What is?" Astrid asks, her mouth full of crust.  
  
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Dean says. She wedges herself between Sam and Cas. Astrid watches the game for a little while, and then looks around.  
  
"I like your ring, Auntie Jess."  
  
 **Fact: Jess doesn't wear rings.**  
  
It's Dean and Cas' turn to whip their heads around. Jess is looking down at her hands, at the single gold band with a princess-cut diamond perched at the center of it.  
  
"Why the hell didn't you tell us?" Dean demands, leg stretching over Astrid to kick Sam's thigh.  
  
"To be fair, it only happened about five minutes before you got here," Jess tells him. "And he didn't even mean to."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It didn't -- it wasn't exactly like that," Sam says sheepishly. "She kinda walked in on me psyching myself up."  
  
"Dude, you're an idiot."  
  
"Shut up, I did it, didn't I?"  
  
"Took you long enough," Dean and Cas say together. Jess turns her gaze on Sam.  
  
"How long have you had it?"  
  
"A couple --"  
  
"Since before Halloween," Dean cuts him off. "Your boyfriend's a wuss, Jess."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Anna."  
  
It's late afternoon, and the unbearable heat's worn off into a smothering warmth that Dean can tolerate. For now. It's late July, and Cas took Astrid out for ice cream. He should be home when they are, but he owes Anna this much. After all, she deserves some of the credit.  
  
"So, I haven't been around in a while. But Cas is back," he says, pacing slightly. "I think he's already visited you, though, so you already knew that. But, um, I just wanted to tell you that I get it, now. I get why you listed us both as her guardians when really you could've just picked one, so if I can just say, well played, Milton. Well played." He chuckles to himself, knows Anna would've laughed at what a dork he is. "You lost the bet, though. Sam won, according to Gabe and Balthazar." She would've rolled her eyes at him. "Smug bastard. He and Jess are getting married, by the way. Astrid's super excited."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Dean's life has been, for the past eight years or so, lived out of order.**  
  
He realizes it late in the summer, when they're starting to think about the new school year, and whether or not Astrid needs new uniforms or if the ones from last year still fit. If he looks at the events of his life of the past eight years, he found friends-that-are-family, moved far from his hometown, became a dad, and fell in love. In that order.  
  
It's a little backwards. Most people move far from their hometown, find those friends-that-are-family, fall in love, and then become a parent.  
  
"Things have to fall apart in order to fall into place, Dean," Cas tells him as they do the dishes and Dean explains his theory. "And not everybody does things in order. Especially not you."


	20. Epilogue

**Fact: Astrid should not be here.**  
  
She doesn't really care, though. Sure, she knows her dads are going to kill her if she's late, knows Uncle Sam and Aunt Jess will probably come up with some grossly untrue story about her and Jesse necking (who says necking anymore?) in the Impala, which she only just got permission to drive around, and if Dad catches wind of a story like that, she's never driving it again.   
  
She smiles, at the idea of Dean's face going nearly purple while Sam laughs and Jess and Cas look appropriately amused and horrified, and continues her very one-sided conversation.  
  
"Emma's doing well," she says. "Making friends at school. She was scared at first. Y'know, high school and all that. But she's doing well. She hates bio, though." Astrid laughs to herself. "Remember me complaining about it? God, I thought Daddy was gonna drive himself off the Brooklyn Bridge." She picks at the grass by her leg. "Papa and Daddy were talking about kids again, last night. They think me and Em don't hear 'Cause they only talk about it after we go to bed, but we do. We've got the space, I guess. And they're still young. You were young." She looks at the flecks of silver and gray and even brown on the stone she's leaning against. "Really young."  
  
She falls silent, looks at the patch she's picked nearly bare. "Sorry about that," She inhales deep through her nose, sighs, and sits up, off the stone. "I have to go. Dads are gonna throw a hissy fit if I'm late." She stands up, brushes off her jeans, and kisses two fingers and presses them right on the uppercase "A."  
  
"See you, Mom."  
  
***  
  
 **Fact: Astrid is home with one minute and twenty seconds to spare.**  
  
"I wanna hear all about it over dinner, Astrid," Dean says as she saunters in, dropping the keys in the little dish on the table next to the stairs and shrugging out of her jacket.   
  
"I was visiting Mom," she says, and it makes Dean hesitate, but just for a second. She's been doing that a lot lately, visiting Anna. Sometimes he forgets that she's sixteen, nearly a fucking grownup, and not the little six-and-a-half-year-old he adopted.   
  
Emma's helping Cas set the table, taller than Astrid and looking more and more like her mother -- at least, according to the picture in her file when they first adopted her -- and when the hell did she grow up, too? Hell, J's already six years old, walking and talking and losing teeth, and his little sister's turning four in a month.   
  
Dean and Cas are  _old_.  
  
"You okay?" Cas asks him as Dean leans in the doorway of the kitchen, strange expression in place. Dean wraps his arms around Cas' waist, hands settling on the small of his back, most definitely not hooking into the belt loops of his jeans while their children are present, no sir. Cas' hand comes up to the side of his head, and Dean leans into it.  
  
"Fine," he says, shrugging it off. He's thirty-eight. He's not that old, he guesses. Most guys his age don't have teenagers, though.   
  
"Daddy, Papa, while I'm really happy that you're one of those rare couples that still actually love each other despite years of being together and dealing with each other's annoying habits and everything, can you stop making googly eyes at each other? It's kinda gross."   
  
"You just wait, Emma Mary. When you get a boyfriend, your father and I are gonna nonstop projectile vomit over you two."  
  
"How about you just break out the embarrassing elementary school pictures?" Astrid suggests, combing her hair into a messy ponytail with her fingers and sitting, criss-crossed, in her chair.   
  
"They didn't do that when you started dating Jesse!"  
  
"Jesse knew me through those years, Em. He probably owns a fair share of my embarrassing photos," Astrid says.   
  
"Don't forget, the last boy she brought home, Uncle Sam brought over Aunt Jess' photo album, and sat him down for twenty minutes while she got ready," Dean says. "She's had her fair share of embarrassment." Emma scowls at her plate. The front door opens and closes and then the sound of two pairs of feet thundering through the house gets louder as two small children fall over each other in the doorway. J and Mia are followed by an exhausted-looking Sam, his hair caught back in an absurd ponytail.   
  
"Hey, Rapunzel," Dean grins, and Sam waves a hand at him. Mia hugs around Dean's legs and he picks her up and kisses her cheek. "Hey, sweetheart, what's up?"  
  
"She just woke up," Jess says, shrugging out of her jacket and hanging it on the hook on the pantry door. "She had a big day today."  
"Oh, yeah? What happened, Mimi?"   
  
"No' my name, Uncle Dee," she says, pushing at his shoulder a little and he laughs.   
  
"We went and visited Daddy at work!" J says, tugging on Dean's shirt. It's funny, how much J looks like Jess. He's all light blond hair and baby-blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose that could be from the Winchester side of the family. Mia, on the other hand, is all Sam, down to the pouting.   
  
"Did you? How was it?"  
  
"Boring," Mia says before J can say anything. Dean positively cackles and Sam just rolls his eyes, sits down next to Emma, who pats his shoulder.   
  
"Dean, put her down, everything's going to get cold," Cas chastises gently, kissing him lightly as he passes.   
  
"Dads, seriously," Emma says.  
  
"What?" Dean asks, setting Mia down and taking his own seat.   
  
"You've had your hands all up on each other all day."  
  
"Have not!"  
  
"Really?" Sam looks disgustingly interested. "Dude, you're like, old."  
  
"Y'know, Sam, I think I can see a few gray hairs from here," Dean says. Sam makes a face at him.   
  
"Nothing compared to your crow's feet, Dean."  
  
"Boys, enough," Jess says, scooting Mia's chair in and sinking into the one next to hers. "You're both still the young, rugged men we married, and if you keep this up, I'll take Cas with me and we'll go out clubbing and take all kinds of embarrassing pictures and post them to Facebook and tag you in them."  
  
***  
  
It's much later, after Sam and Jess and the babies (which is how they're still referred to even if they're both walking and talking) have gone home and the girls are in their respective rooms. Dean's standing in the master bathroom, brushing his teeth, looking at the alleged crow's feet and maybe checking for gray hair. Maybe.  
  
"Sam was saying they might try for number three soon," Dean says as he rinses out his mouth, watching himself in the mirror.  
  
"Oh?" Cas says from somewhere in their room.   
  
"Yeah, she brought it up this morning."  
  
"Mia and J are getting old, it'll have to be soon."   
  
"Hey, I was four when Sammy was born," Dean says, getting up close and personal with the mirror to get a better look at his face. "And how old was Gabe when you and Anna were born?"  
  
"True, but let's not forget who the accident was." Cas falls silent, and then, "Dean Milton-Winchester, what are you doing?" Dean looks at him in the mirror. He's leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed, frowning slightly. Cas hasn't aged at all, it looks like. No hints of silver, no crinkles on his face, but sometimes Dean thinks he looks tired. Then again, the Met always did work him a little too hard.   
  
"Just checking," he says, turning around and walking toward him.   
  
"You don't need to do that," Cas says, slinging his arms low on Dean's hips. "You look fine. It all looks fine." Cas kisses him gently, dry and warm, just the press of lips. Dean thinks he might be getting chapped again, with the weather getting colder.   
  
It's these moments that have become their favorites over the years. Not the sex -- although that's a very, very, very close second -- and not the times when they introduce each other as his husband -- although that's not too bad either. The quiet ones, when they're unrushed and just enjoying each other's presence for the moment. They learned this early on, and Dean thinks it might be a combination of falling into a relationship while co-parenting a child at the same time and the fact that they both kind of worked out any sexual tension fairly quickly (don't tell Sam). But things like this, just kissing each other in a doorway with two kids in bed, and their lives together actually working out after years of utter bullshit and tap-dancing around each other. Still, Dean sometimes can't believe where he's at right now, who he has with him and how very different his life's been since he drove Adam's crap up to New York for a weekend when he was twenty.  
  
He's brought startlingly back to the present when Cas presses in one last time before pulling away just slightly and Dean follows him, tripping slightly over the strip of marble separating the bathroom and bedroom in an effort to keep contact.  
  
"Come to bed," Cas whispers against his lips, as if Dean needed convincing.  
  
"Happy anniversary," Dean replies, and lets him pull him into their room. 


End file.
